Sneaking into your dreams
by Nanimoon
Summary: Arya always liked to sneaky in to sleep with Jon. He never really minded sharing his bed.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Firstly I must say I haven't written anything in ages! So if something don't connect well it's probably because of my lack in writing skills. I choosed to write in English mainly because my brain is more bilingual than it really should. So risking to be killed by grammar nazis and ASOIAF fans and share with you this little peace of work. I love Jon/Arya fandom so if you find incestuous relationships offensive or just can't read it please be warned. If anyone is interested I wrote this listening to Muse - Time is running out in a almost obsessive manner O.o Without further ado, thanks you for reading and please review.

**Disclaimer: As always, the usual disclaimer applies. I own nothing from within the wondrous world of ASOIAF. **

There was no secret at least between the members of the Stark house that Arya would eventually get up in the middle of the night head up to the boys chambers to sneak in Jon's bed. At first when she learned to walk she would walk until she ended up crying in the halls. A lost baby with chubby legs that would not let anyone take her back to her crib. Not anyone that wasn't Ned, Robb or Jon at least. Soon the Starks found out that the most effective person to ease the little she-wolf of Winterfell was Jon and he soon found out that the easier way to get some sleep at night was letting her sleep with him.

Lady Catelyn hated the perspective of letting her precious baby sleep in the same bed as her lord husband bastard but after ten nights of unstoppable crying even she gave up. The girl just had a strange connection with the bastard. Lord Eddard wouldn't say a thing and would sometimes smile at the sight of his bastard holding up his giggling younger daughter. Master Luwin would say it something a bit odd. Old Nan would just smile knowingly.

So as they grew up every one turned the blind eye over them pretending not to find it strange that Lord Eddard younger daughter would more than often not be on her bedroom at the morrow.

Jon didn't really mind. He loved Arya. When she was a toddler she would sleep cradled up in the middle of his chest and he would feel very proud with himself. Truth be told Jon also enjoyed sleeping in the same bed as Arya. He likes to feel her sleeping between his arms and he likes how he would feel warm against her small body in the cold nights.

Jon could honestly say he was happy with her sleeping arrangements and he had no complains about it. Except. Well, except for that tiny little fact. It was nothing really. It was actually something silly. It was just that… well… Arya had a _thing _a habit of sorts. She would climb into Jon's bed crawling underneath his sleeping furs and cuddle him. Her head will soon get tucked under his chin and her leg will tangle between his own and her fingers… her fingers will sneak inside his sleeping clothes and prickle above his chest making paths through his stomach. She will twist her little fingers until almost reaching the waistband of his sleeping breeches.

The "problem" was that was a new development. When she was little her small fingers would just nestle in his chest and she would sleep peacefully for the night now however she would doze of making those quirky patterns above his skin. That _thing _she did leaved him uncomfortable but not uncomfortable enough to beg her to sleep in her own bed.

So Jon for the sake of leaving his little sister happy (and him too although he will prefer torture than admitting that) developed a habit, a habit of waking up really early. That was one of Jon Snow secrets. Nobody knew and he would never ever tell why he would wake up so early. Not even to Arya. Well, especially to Arya he would sometimes think.

The main reason Jon Snow developed such a habit was because he was trying to adapt. At first when Arya began doing her _thing _he would have trouble on sleeping. He would always feel a strange twitching feeling at the pit of his stomach that would make sleep a hard task. He was over that problem now.

He had new other problems now. Now he would wake up in the most embarrassing of the situations. He would now wake up utterly hard. At first he asked the gods to spare him from this completely unwelcomed bodily reaction when Arya choose to sleep in his bed again, but it was to no avail. The gods as everything would indicate were deaf soulless spirits as they didn't took pity on him.

His body on the other hand seemed to be settled on behaving in even strongly embarrassing ways when Arya would snuggle him. That was when Jon made up his mind. He would now wake up very early. He would fight his wish to stay in bed (as he was a heavy sleeper). He would then disentangle himself from Arya (if she was there) sneak past Robb and walk straight to the baths to take the coldest shower he could get without getting a cold. Once he found out that the morning freezing weather was not enough to free him from such a problem.

That was exactly what he did that morning. He got up and made his daily ritual to the baths winning a soft sight from Arya (as she didn't like to let him out of the bed) and a sleepy glance from Robb. He then head up straight towards the baths to get rid of this offending situation.

Was just him or that was getting harder to do? Maybe it was just today he mused as sleep still clouded his mind. It was a really cold morning and Arya body against him felt so warm her breasts felt so soft too. Wait, what was that again? Cross that. He, Jon Snow for the love of the old gods did not just think about his little sister breasts. That was sleep talking, one just have to see Theon waking up to know how a sleepy mind could create such ludicrous thoughts. Yes, sleep. He decided pushing his face in the cold water.

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Arya woke about ten minutes later. Why was the bed cold again? Her mind automatically thought of Jon. Where is Jon? Haven't she slept in the right bed? She clearly remembered climbing his bed lasts night. It was so cold then. Did she dreamed that?

She stretched sinking her nose in the beds covers. She breathed deeply feeling the usual dizziness that clouded her mind every time she sniffed Jon's scent. He smelled so good!

Well, the scent proved that she had slept in the right bed after all. Not the right _right _bed as the right bed according to Sansa and Jeyne would be her own bed. Not that she cared about what Sansa or Jeyne said at all. After all they didn't get it. Jon's bed was the best bed to sleep at.

Jon was cozy and that was the main reason why she liked to sleep with him. That thought send her straight back to her previous thought though. Where was Jon? She ventured a look across the room. It was still dark outside the first sunbeams were still reaching the skyline she was sure.

She saw Robb's form sleeping at the other side of the room. If Robb was still sleeping… Where in the Seven Hells was Jon? She was mildly irritated. She tried to get up then deciding in a burst to look out for Jon and drag his silly but back to bed again.

She was soon demoted from that idea thou as the morning cold air reached her skin when she tried to put her legs out of the covers. Maybe he will come back? Her mind silently hoped.

Arya tried to sleep again but it was to no use, she was plenty awake now. She just didn't want to leave the covers just yet. Her thoughts cleared a bit then. Why by the Seven Hells is Jon doing that? She asked herself.

By that she meant this new routine he was choosing to do. Arya didn't get it at all why was Jon suddenly ready to get up of bed this early. He had always been a heavy sleeper like herself. So why was he insisting on wake up so early? He couldn't possible want that… could he?

Arya hugged his pillow sniffing his scent again and letting a frustrated little whine escape her. She liked to wake up with him dammit. She liked to wake up with his hand caressing her head as he always did.

She liked their old routine. When Robb would wake up ignore them and let them sleep until he got back from his morning shower where she could stay a while longer in Jon's warmth. Trying to be practical Arya struggled to find a reason why Jon would suddenly choose to wake up this earlier.

Unfortunately she couldn't think of any. He was acting a bit strange lately… maybe he was worried about something… That would surely explain why he would not make those extremely nice circle patterns in the small of her back as he used to do when she couldn't sleep.

But what would Jon be worried at?

Giving up Arya joined enough courage to drag herself out of bed. Since she was already up she walked towards Robb sleeping form very slowly an evil plan on her mind. She knew Nymeria and Ghost would not make any noise to disturb her prank but she eyed Grey Wind warningly as she approached her older brother. When she was close enough she got really close to his ear and then…

- ROBB YOU PEED THE BED! – She screamed against his ear.

Robb jumped half a meter above his bed – What? I did what? – He mumbled as his drowsy hands tried to touch all the extent of his bed.

Arya laugh so hard she was soon without air. Robb finally woke up enough then.

- You shouldn't do that, Arya! Almost scared me to death! – He complained.

- I didn't know you were still afraid of wetting your bed like baby Rickon, Robb. – She teased him still giggling.

Robb rolled his eyes and got up dragging himself out of the bedroom his covers still in his shoulders.

Arya eventually was able to stop giggling after her brother went out. Her morning had not seemed promising when she woke up alone again (she mentally rolled her eyes then) but scaring Robb made her day seem a bit brighter already.

She went to the kitchen and grabbed a slice of hot bread. Soon deciding on checking if Bran was training with Sor Rodrik today, maybe she could sneaky in his training. She loved the bow lessons.

Before she could find Bran or sneak towards the training yard she was cough up by Sansa voice. Sansa said something about Septa Mordane and needling that Arya didn't even tried to pay attention as she was still thinking in going out and find some bow to practice.

Her plans were interrupted by Septa Mordane herself that dragged her to that hateful needling room. By the gods did she hate needlework!

As she seated at her torture chair she thought she really should have stayed sleeping a bit more. It was easier to ditch Sansa, Septa and Mother when she slept at the boy's quarters. Pouting she started to make the worst chain-stitch of her life as she started to imagine what would be like to be training with the bow or riding a horse right now.

Embroidering must be the most boring thing to do in the word. If she wasn't already bored enough Sansa and Jeyne made sure to make her even unhappier with their endless talk. Septa Morgane had left them there (the old witch) and Arya was considering sneaking out already. Arya had a vague notion that Sansa and Jeyne were speaking. They were as always speaking about boys.

Not any boys no. They were talking about the boys in those damned history they so much liked. Arya rolled her eyes. Could anyone be sillier than those two? And she was supposed to be the silly one. She being the youngster and all.

- Wouldn't you like to kiss Theon? Just to know how is like? – Arya heard Jeyne ask Sansa.

- No! – Her sister responded blushing as only Sansa could.

- I would. I guess. I heard the kitchen girls all giggling saying how he is a good kisser. – Jeyne said.

Disgusting! Was all Arya could think as she hear Jeyne. Why would anyone want to kiss a boy? And Theon nonetheless! He was the weirdest boy she could think. She snorted. Automatically Jeyne and Sansa stared at her. Sansa had that look in her face that said she totally forgot Arya was there at all. Jeyne looked at her annoyed. Ohh Arya knew that face. Jeyne is thinking she mocked her, isn't she? Oh hells.

- Come on Arya – Jeyne started – Don't you think Theon is cute?

Arya let out a sound that was half disgusted half amused by that notion – No. He is definitely not cute at all.

- Stop it Jeyne! Arya is too young to think such things! – Sansa said.

Arya hated that. She really hated when anyone would say "she was too young" for anything. Ok, so maybe she did not ever thought about kissing boys. But so what? She was just not interested. It didn't mean she was too young.

- No she is not. – Jeyne said then and Arya was actually surprise to hear her say that. – Remember that time three years ago when that Frey boy came to speak with your father? – Jeyne continued speaking with Sansa. – You were Arya's age then. Remember?

Arya was pretty sure she had never seeing Sansa blush in that way before. Did Sansa kissed the Frey boy? Ohhh just wait until she told Jon about it.

- I do. – Sansa replied completing turning back to "lady mode" – But that was me.

What did she mean with that? Arya thought.

- Oh yes. – Jeyne agreed – Arya don't think about that sort of things. – Jeyne smile was somewhat evil now – Remember when she said she wanted to marry Jon? – She said in a fit of giggles.

Sansa also giggled putting her hand on her head as if she was petting her. – Yes I do. The things she said!

- And Jon nonetheless! – Jeyne giggled some more – With all that hair too. – She continued making Sansa laugh too. - Only you Arya. Really.

She got out then annoyed at the girls laughs. Arya didn't even remember saying that. She walked until one of the castle high windows seating there. Maybe she could kiss a boy just to see what all that fuss is about. Maybe Mycah. She tried to picture that at her mind but got to yucked to keep on that thought.

Her gazed fixed on the boys sparring down there at the yard. And Jeyne's words came back at her. She would never want to kiss a boy not at his lips at least. She didn't think she would ever want to kiss Theon lips too. Theon was weird. Actually he was more than just weird he had something that was weird along with something that was yucky. No never would she kiss Theon.

Arya catches sight of Jon then, his tall figure fighting against Robb at the yard. Jon's lips were probably nice. She mused. If she had to choose someone to kiss she would choose him. Maybe. Apparently with no reason she remembered the heat of his body when she cuddles against him. Her stomach suddenly does a queer flip-flop her cheeks feeling a bit hotter than normal. It feels nice. It was a strange feeling but at the same time was somewhat nice too.

Maybe she should kiss Jon she thinks dreamily. The question now is how she will convince him to kiss her?

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- I will fuck her until she cries me to stop – Theon said as graceful as ever.

- I'm guessing you have enough gold for that – Robb answered used with Theon lack of manners. – Ros is expensive remember?

Theon shrugged. – She will let me have her. I'm Ironborn you know. All ladies want a piece of us. The best lovers of the Seven Kingdoms and beyond!

Jon could not help rolling his eyes then. Seriously? Can anybody be more full of himself? He sighed. Robb glanced at him understanding.

- You just do that because you don't know how it is, Jon. – Theon went on after hearing him – To feel a woman's tit in your hand as you bang inside her making her cry your name. – He does bit his lips making a strange face. Theon was not only weird he was weird with a fetish it would seem.

Jon could honestly say he was not amused. If anything Theon descriptions made him even less interested in that. He almost couldn't help to roll his eyes again. Arya must be rubbing off in him again.

You could come with us you know. Drink and talk to the girls. – Robb said.

Oh Jon knew that. He knew that Robb did just that. Meet with the other boys' drink some sour wine and talk with the girls and maybe even kiss one girl or two. Jon did the same for some time at least.

That was until the incident with Ros. Theon thought it was about time to Jon "get it on" with a woman and had paid Ros to be with him in his last name day, as a gift ( an what a lousy gift that was). Now he couldn't go anywhere without hearing all the girls giggling at his apparent "lack of ability". It was all a lie though.

Contrary to popular belief Jon knew exactly what to do and how to do it. Ros was actually begging for him when guilt had downed on him. All the things that could go wrong had chosen that exactly moment to pop into his head.

Jon had decided a long time ago that he would never father a bastard. He would probably pledge himself to the Night's Watch so no woman had to bear his bastard name. And so he refused her.

Saying Ros got mad with him was an understatement. She got furious. After he got out she went out whispering for everyone he couldn't do it. That he was inadequate (small she had said small his mind provided inconveniently as usual. But he would not think about that ever again). Since then he had refused to visit any tavern in Winterfell. Actually he had refused to visit any tavern at all.

- I doubt that! – Theon barked – Jon never felt desire for any woman! He prefers the company of little kids – he snorted.

His treacherous body twitched making him feel a slight pang a phantom from the hardness he felt earlier that day. Making his face blank Jon fought the urge to reply Theon words. Oh he felt desire well enough. He had made Ros throb. He had made her beg him to do her. He could (would) agree it felt nice to hear her say his name like that. It had also sounded fake though as if something was amiss. It was that something that made him stop.

He still felt that too. As the way he had awoken today. As if his body was begging him for a release he wouldn't (couldn't) provide. Some corner of his mind whispered Arya name in his mind then. Suddenly he was ashamed of that feeling all over again.

He bit his lips trying to contain the anger and the flood of unfamiliar emotions that threaten to engulf him. What was happening to him? Robb choose that moment to save him from his thoughts though.

- Jon is too much like dad, Theon. He doesn't like to stay in the crowd. – Robb said – Let's get going or Ros will be occupied by the time we get there.

Jon smiled towards Robb silently thanking him (and silently felling a bit guilty too). After saying good bye Jon went towards the kitchens.

As he entered he heard Jeyne Poole let out a little laugh. Oh that was just great. Ros whispers must have gotten in the ears of the castle gossip queen. He clenched his hand slightly would that rumor never disappear?

- Jon! – Bran called him distracting him from his sore thoughts – Can you tell us a ghost history?

Jon smiled. Of course he could. After the supper he gathered his half-brothers by the fire and told them some scary history he had heard from his uncle Benjen. Bran was seated against his dire wolf Summer. Rickon was dozing off as it was Shaggy Dog. Ghost and Nymeria were close to Arya.

By the time he had finished the history Bran was also almost sleeping. Lady Catelyn had already gone to her chambers (thank the gods). Lord Eddard took Rickon in his arms taking him to his bedroom Bran tagging along holding his their dad's hand.

He looked at Arya almost letting out a sight. He knew that face. That little smirk at her lips that said she wouldn't even bother to pass in her bedroom before sneaking in his bed. He guessed he could land her another one of his shirts. As they walked towards his (their) bedroom he thought he had seen her cast him a strange look. Almost dreamy. Odd. It wasn't even one of the "I have such a good prank to do with you" sorts of look. Very odd. But it was just his impression, wasn't it?


	2. Chapter 2

Arya did exactly as Jon had predicted. Because what was the point in sneaking past Sansa if she could go to Jon's room directly anyway? As they reached his room she jumped in his bed and stared at him as he took out his tunic leaving only his white lose shirt. Today was a fine day as any to begin her plan. Especially since Robb was out with Theon again.

She watched Jon's movements paying more attention than usual in his body. Really she was more than glad with the fact that Jon had now (apparently) given up on going out with Robb and Theon. She really _really _hated when he would go with them and she had to sleep in her cold bed. She tried to go to his bed when he was out. But it was to no use. Even Jon's bed filled with his scent was not good enough. Oh it was still better than her bed alright but Jon made the difference. If he was out it was just not the same.

She remembered the last day he went out. It was one day after his name day. He got home earlier than Robb and Theon and he was really flushed. He even got the guts to scold her for not being at her bed. The nerve he had! Hunph! Obviously he later asked for her forgiveness and she graciously conceded it. She tried asking what have happened but he told her to leave him be. Arya knew that no matter what he said he also liked to sleep next to her but she thought he had never held her that tight next to him as he did that day.

She tried to concentrate again. How the hell she was supposed to find out if Jon was worth kissing (he probably was but she still had to make sure, didn't she?). She knew that whoever she decided to kiss had to be pretty. Preferable smart too. Jon was crazy smart sometimes and she found he was pretty. But she wanted to kiss the prettiest boy ever. So she could say exactly that to Sansa and Jeyne.

That said she started to observe him again. Jon was lean and slender but at the same time he was really strong. She could see his muscles even from where she stood. His skin was so pale that would even appear to be cold like his namesake. It was not though. Arya knew exactly how Jon skin was. It was smooth and really warm. As warm as standing near a fireplace could be. Oh and it also had that delicious smell somewhat musky and strong but also kind of sweet like hot mulled wine, honey, candle lights and snow.

He hand her one of his shirts and she immediately started pulling hers out. She smiled as he turned his back to her. She thought it was funny, how he would turn so quickly. Jon never tried to sneak a pick at her as she sometimes tried at him. Arya shrugged. Putting on the shirt he gave her.

Climbing under the covers she waited for him. Jon was apparently having trouble in untangling a knot on his pants laces.

- Do you want help with that? – She offered.

She heard him gulp. – What? – He said almost sounding as Robb that morning. Odd. Jon always paid attention on what she says unless… Oh! She liked how he would look like that sometimes. Almost like he was confused. He always gets more air headed when he is sleepy. Arya grinned. She liked sleepy Jon. Sleepy Jon would do that circling patterns in her spine that she so much enjoys. - Do you need help with that? – She repeated indicating the knot testing his reaction. Please _please_ let Jon be sleepy.

- No. It's alright. I got it. – He replied yawning. Oh the gods were good. He was. He really was sleepy. Her grin got bigger.

Jon lay down next to her automatically pulling her to his chest. She felt his hand touch the skin in her back. Yes! Sleepy Jon is the best. It's almost something special since he almost doesn't do that anymore.

She almost let out an indignant humph. Why was he insisting in such irritating habits again? At least he has been sleepier at night now. That normally meant cuddling. Okay, so maybe she shouldn't mind terribly about his new habits (but at the same time…why couldn't he cuddle and sleepy until later? What was the problem in multitasking that?).

Still she will be adding that to her list of "strange things Jon is doing". He was getting more irritated with Theon too she knew. Theon should probably consider not sparring with Jon for some time because if the way he clenched his sword hand sometimes along with all the times he is passing his hand over his hair is any indication… well Master Luwin will probably need a lot of milk of the poppy. Didn't Theon ever learned? Last time Jon was like that (what was the word father used? Oh yes, stressed) Theon ended up with a twisted wrist.

Arya almost smirked. She should probably put ice in his shoes. That would make Jon happier even if he will never admit it aloud. She knew he liked because of the way he would hold her at night. Utterly pleased with her. He would even hum sometimes.

She saw him close his eyes as she snuggled her hands up inside his shirt in a reflex, touching the little path of hair he have above his waistline. She feels the muscles in his abdomen flutter and vaguely wondered for the millionth time why they do that. She breaths confortable feeling his hands move and his scent engulf her. Sometimes she just liked to spread her hands over his skin feeling the lines of his muscles and tangling her fingers in that little path of hair. It feels so nice…

She is almost sleeping when she remembers she can't sleep now. She has a plan to fulfill. She almost huffs. Why in the seven hells she always forgets her plans when Jon hold her? Opening her eyes she sees Jon must be almost sleeping by now. She moves up touching his body with hers. He lets out a sound. A delighted sound. His arms get tighter around her. She grins again, happy by his reaction.

Arya observes him. His face seems calmer somehow. Jon is never really relaxed when he is wake. He is always guarding himself. She can't contain a smile than as she remembers how his face cracks in a smile when she runs to hug him. His face will lit up somehow and his dark eyes will glint almost violet.

He is pretty she concludes again. She tries to compare him to all the boys she knows observing the outline of his jaw. No, Jon is definitely the handsome boy she knows. She fixes her gaze in his lips. Trying to imagine how they would feel against her owns. She reaches one hand up determined to touch his lips on her fingertips. Her fingers lightly craw under his shirt trying not to disturb his sleep. She feels cold air as her hand reaches out his loosed collar.

Her hand brushes his low beard and very slowly she tries to press her fingers against his mouth. Her breath sound crazily loud in her ears and she can feel her heart start to pound inside her chest. She does not know why she is nervous at all. Jon kisses her all the time. Why would it be any different? It's just her mouth. It can't be that different from the times he kissed her cheeks or the palm of her hands, can it? By the way what the hell is that noise? Is her heart pounding that loudly?

She commands her body to stay silent. Jon will wake up if she keeps doing such loud noises. Her fingers (finally) touch his lips. They feel… she can't really describe how they feel but they are warm just like Jon maybe a bit warmer than the rest of his skin. She unconsciously wet her lips and her heads suddenly feels lighter.

Her finger pressed his bottom lip. Why was she doing that again? She tries to concentrate. Jon's lips… Jon breaths a bit harder and she jolts almost as if she had been sleeping. She shivers still unnerved by the sensation of his lips against her fingertips.

Her hand draws back slowly. Her breath is still heavy. Clearing her thoughts she briefly wonder what had just happened. Finding no answer she looks up to his face again. It felt nice (amazingly nice).

Kiss him. She thinks suddenly. Now! It's almost like an order. She considers doing just that struggling to resist the compelling impulse. She flushes. Maybe she shouldn't do that. Not now at least. _I want him to kiss me too. _ Anh? Was that her? Well, she almost shrugs it is true.

At least now she knows. She wants to kiss Jon. Just to know how it is like. Who cared about Sansa or Jeyne anyway? Jon is (and always will be) the right choice.

With her cheeks still flushed she tried to go back to that sluggish way that preceded sleep. It was really hard to do it for some strange reason. Arya pushed herself into his chest not sure exactly as to why she was acting like she used to do when she was little and had done something wrong.

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Jon woke up with something that was really soft pressed against his chest. For something he meant obviously Arya. He almost let out a groan escape him as she was more a top of him than not.

He tried to disentangle himself from her but she let out a really indignant whine. That girl would be his doom. He was sure. Really wasn't he able to deny her wishes even when she was sleeping?

He eyed the other side of the room. Robb had not gone back to their room. He was probably trying to avoid Lady Catelyn wrath by sleeping at Theon's bedroom. He guessed he could stay tucked under the covers a tad longer. His problem was there as it was every single morning but he was sleeping so little lately.

Jon woke up some time later feeling an awkward emptiness in his arms and a comforting sensation in his head. Where's Arya? His mind connected almost immediately the emptiness in his arms with the absence of his little sister. Why is she not sleeping? He wondered. She never awakes before him and he didn't hear anyone call her.

His breath hitched as a thought strikes him. Oh gods. She didn't felt his… did she? Please say she didn't felt his _damned _problem. Oh gods she felt didn't she? She must know what that means… Jon let out a long exhale. He had to find her and explain. Oh my! She probably won't ever speak with him again. He betrayed her trust. And she would never speak with him again! He took another deep breath trying to organize his thoughts. Wait. What was that? Was that fingers in his head?

He opened his eyes and was greeted by one of Arya grins she was running her fingers lazily through his hair. Praise the gods! They finally took pity on him. He mused.

- Good morning, Jon. – She said opening her face in a full smile. – Does your face always get so serious when you wake? – She continued passing her hand in his forehead.

He fought a yawn and stretched his head still in her lap. – Good morning, little sister. – He ignored her question as he knew it was a just a jest. He tried to get up but she stopped him by putting her hand in his chest. He could stay like that a bit couldn't he? Her fingers felt nice too.

- Jon. – She said.

- Hm? – He was able to respond still fighting the sleep. Appreciating the fact that he was once more saved from the worst conversation of his life.

- Can I ask you something? – She said seriously.

He suddenly felt really awake. Serious Arya normally meant she needed help on escaping some punishment from one of her pranks. He looked at her face paying attention.

- Of course you can. Don't you know that? – He replied.

- You have to promise you'll answer no matter what. – She stated.

Could he be worried now? Not a single conversation that started like that ended up being a nice conversation. Not for him at least. The last one had been particularly embarrassing he remembered. Nonetheless it must be something important since she is asking him so early.

- Okay, Arya. I promise. – He left out a small smile.

She took a deep breath. That was definitely a bad sign. – How it feels to kiss someone?

Hm? What in the Seven Hells is she going on about? She did not just asked him about kissing did she? Maybe he could jest a bit? He looked at her face. Probably not the best of ideas. She is asking him seriously.

- What?

- Oh come on. You promised. And I know you already kissed girls. So how does it feel? – She repeated without a trace of shame in her features. Not a normal girl indeed.

- How you know that? – How did she know that indeed? It was not like he kissed every single girl of Winterfell.

Arya stared at him. One of her eyebrows was up. Silently asking him "really?" in a sarcastic tone. – I heard some girls talking about it. Now can you please answer?

He tried to think of responses his face contorting as he thought. However all he could think about was more questions. Why did she want to know that? Is she interest in some boy? Who is this damned soon to be dead boy? He felt a pang in his chest. Did that mean she wouldn't sleep with him anymore? Now that she thought about _boys _(even in his mind he almost spitted the word). He felt anger and sadness bubble up inside him.

He ventured a look towards her. She was patiently waiting for him.

He sighed and when he answered his voice did not held a single hint of the feelings that was steaming inside him. He could lie. He could say it was horrible just so she didn't thought on kissing boys.

- It feels different. But is also nice. It's hard to describe. – He wanted to beat himself up. He couldn't lie. Not to her. Never to her. – Can I ask why are you asking?

- No reason –she replied shrugging. One could count on Arya to be vague.

Jon knew that wasn't completely true. She wouldn't have asked without a reason. That meant somewhere in Winterfell a boy caught his little sister attention. For such offense this boy should suffer and die. His mind was already providing a suitable death to whoever the boy was.

- Are you sure? – He said seating in front of her.

- Yep – she answered popping the "p".

He grinned. He _had _to find out who the boy was (and make him suffer). He breathed again. Trying to be rational. He always knew this day would come. He just didn't expect to feel like that. So… ( he looked for the word)… hurt. His mind finally provided catching him by surprise.

- Let's go break our fast. Shall we? – He called her going out of bed. Trying to conceal his thoughts.

Perhaps he was jealous, but Arya is his precious little sister. It was normal to be jealous of a sister, isn't it? A thought whispered in a corner of his mind. Not like that. Some dark part of him knew even if he never wanted to admit that she was troubling him more than she should be.

He was jealous, alright. But it was not because of some boy. It was from the notion of another man doing something he deeply wanted to do himself. He knew it was wrong. He knew it was very wrong. You want to do it anyway. That part of him would whisper sometimes and he would ignore it. Ignore it along with the glances he sometimes gave her. Glances that weren't a tiny bit brotherly. Or the notion of what her body pressed against his own would make him feel. The notion of what her small breasts, their entangle legs and her quirky fingers would make him feel every single day.

He suppressed all that. At first he suppressed them hoping they would disappear. Than he has asked the gods to make them disappear. No matter what he did though the thoughts were still there. So he would bury them deeper and try his best to pretend that they didn't exist.

Truth was that this part of his mind wanted to kiss her. Kiss her and make her forget all the others boys in the world. Kiss her until she was only able to say his name. _His _Arya repeating his name. He shivered.

- Jon. – She called him then and he almost beat himself for the second time that morning. That was exactly why he shouldn't think such things. Stop playing tricks with me. He begged his mind to end that rebellion. It's wrong. He would claim. It's exactly what you want, his thoughts would answer. Seven hells!

He Jon Snow would not think about this sorts of things. He commands inside his head in an effort to make those strange thoughts to shut up.

- Yes, Arya? – He manages to answer. He hopes without sounding suspicious.

- Can you teach me to fight with the sword today? – Arya smiled towards him.

Swordplay. Didn't seemed like a bad idea at all. He was in the mood of cracking someone's skull open anyway. Especially _that boy _his mind whispered again. He smiled, yep that he wanted to do.

- Don't you have to escape Sansa first? – She stared at him strangely so he indicated their auburn hair sister coming in her direction. It was too late to run though.

- Arya! I've been looking for you everywhere. - Sansa said. He almost puffed, everywhere that was not his room. Am I right? As if nobody knew exactly where Arya was – Mother wants to speak with you.

Arya groaned. She couldn't really escape her mother. Not without winning several hours of needlework in return at least, he knew. He placed his hand on her shoulder supportive. She was right after all needlework did seem like the most boring thing in the world.

Her hand entangle with the one he placed on her shoulder. – Where is mother? – She asked Sansa.

- At her chambers. – Sansa promptly provided.

Groaning again Arya turned at her hills and started walking straight to her mother chambers.

He looked at Sansa. – Good morning to you sister.

She smiled at him with the most condescending smile. He almost grinned amused. He knew that Sansa never truly consider him a brother. He liked to call her sister though just to spite her. Sansa and Lady Catelyn were the only Starks he never felt close too.

- Good morning, Jon. – She managed to reply.

He nod at her and started walking towards the kitchens again. He could see Jeyne Poole approaching too. It's too early and he was already having too many problems without Sansa and Jeyne talking to him.

- You shouldn't let her do whatever she want you know. You should teach her how to be a proper lady. Like a brother should. – Sansa commented at his back.

- I know. – He simply retorted. Oh he knew. Sansa just didn't get it. He knew what he should be doing. He just wasn't able to do it.

Robb had a mighty hangover and an upending headache. Theon was still snoring in his room. Father, Lord Eddard that is asked Jon to accompany him while he did his lordly duties and listen to his people requests. He went because he needed company. He needed not to be left alone with his thoughts.

By midday Jon couldn't take it anymore. He was obsessed with the question Arya had done earlier. He was angered with the question, with this unknown boy, _with himself_.

All those dark thoughts wandering inside his head had to stop. He couldn't be so sick could he? He wondered when he broke the third training sword. Maybe Arya interest in other boys is for the best. She would leave him eventually. She would grow up and get marry and leave him. Then she would never learn how his soul is rotten. He felt a pang in his chest. If it was for the best did it have to hurt so much?

- JON! Were you here all the time? Old Nan said you were with father. So I went there looking for you and you weren't there at all. Took me ages to find you. – Arya said bursting in the armor room.

He smiled despite himself. How long would she be going looking for him like that? He mused as she observed him.

- I'm guessing you don't want to swordplay anymore? – She asked. He grinned, she knew him well didn't she? He straightened himself and mussed her hair.

- No. Can't we do something else? – He asked. He buried his feelings inside him. Again. How long he would be able to do that?

- Oh I know! Let's swim at the hot springs! – Her face was full with expectation as she waited for him to answer.

He shouldn't go. He really shouldn't do anything that involved lack of clothes with Arya. He knew. But he couldn't deny her, could he? Especially now.

- I'll go with you but I won't swim. – He answered knowing she wouldn't approve what he was saying.

She must be seeing something in his face because she didn't complain as he thought she would.

She dived in the hot spring in only her smallclothes and he felt a shiver running down his spine. He seated in the hot spring border with his feet inside the hot water.

She laughed and swam and told him of how she was planning on putting ice inside Theon's boots. He laughed too because it was her, and she always made him happier. He played with her, he even volunteered himself to help her put hot Dornish peppers in Sansa and Jeyne's food.

But most of all he fought a battle with himself. A battle to not notice that her smallclothes were almost transparent when wet. A battle to divert his eyes from the curves of her body. From the sweet curve of her hips and from the showing peaks of her breasts.

- Are you sure you don't want to swim? – She asked perched at his knees.

She looked adorable. Her hair was wet and her eyes shined grey. She was beautiful. She was kissable. He felt a deep urge. His breath was hard and he could feel himself harden.

Suddenly he felt a pull and he was under water. In some vague corner of his mind he knew Arya must have pulled him inside. He emerges and when water stops blurring his vision he sees her giggling.

He wanted to shake her, he wanted to hold her, he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to fuck her, he wanted her to scream his name and promise him she would never ever leave him. He couldn't take it anymore.

He pulled her fully into his arms and he kissed her. She let out this high and surprised little noise and he craves into it. He nudges her lips open with his tongue and he claims her. He kisses her desperately afraid she will push him away. She doesn't though. Instead she places her hands around his neck and gods were him doomed now. He pushed her against the hot spring border his hands on her waist, his fingers doing circles on her belly. She moaned. He kissed her deeper.

He pressed his body against her. His hands were under her tantalizing breasts. She let out another moan. Fuck! His body arched towards her impulsively rubbing his hardness in her thighs. He wondered vaguely if she could feel him. If the way she was kissing him back meant he could go further. His thumbs were brushing the sides of her breasts. It felt amazing.

He heard footsteps and his mind suddenly was screaming to him to stop. He whimpered. He didn't want to stop. He heard some plants cracking and finally let her mouth be freed from his.

He opened his eyes pulling away from her. She was staring at him with a strange expression. He screw it didn't he? Her eyes were really wide. His arms fell down. You sick _sick _son a bitch. What have you done? He thought.

He tried to say something. Anything. But he was never good with words. Too soon it was too late for him to say anything as Bran emerged from behind the plants that surrounded the hot spring.

He knew Bran was saying something about father and Robb and himself but he didn't hear a single word. He was still staring into Arya wide eyes. He closed his own struggling to find sense into his thoughts but there was none.

- I have to go. – He managed to muttered turning himself from Arya and climbing the hot spring border.

Guilt was spreading fast inside his guts. The tangling sensation in his lips making him feel worse. Fuck! He cursed. What was he supposed to do now? How could he ever look at her again?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Arya was eating supper but she was really distracted. She kept waiting for Jon to enter the hall. Why is Jon not here? She needed to talk with him again. Privately. But how is she supposed to say that to him if he doesn't show up?

Arya thought about sneaking out and look for him, but Mother was in one of _those _moods. She already passed half the morning hearing Lady Catelyn trying to convince her of how she has to use proper dresses for a lady and how she have to look more presentable. "You just have to act more like Sansa. You could be prettier!" She could almost hear her mother speaking in her head. Geez. At least today she didn't nag her to meet a boy for her to marry when "the time comes". Humph! Like she would marry any man! She would run first.

Well, except if is Jon the thought catches her unguarded. She felt her cheeks go hot. Deep down she knows that what they did was… wrong. But she it felt so _right. _She felt like the world was suddenly painted in new bright colors. She felt complete and happy almost like she belonged there in his arms. We should have been born Targaryens instead of Starks then she could stay with him without anyone saying that kissing Jon is wrong.

Never in her life she felt this way. She concludes she would never have guessed before but Jon was like air itself. He was the only person she would ever want to kiss. Home after all always was where Jon is. She remembered the look on his face. How she dove in the hot spring and looked at him.

She thought he was sad with something. He had this glint in his eyes that said he was deeply hurt. What could possible hurt him like that she didn't know.

She wanted to cuddle him then. But cuddle him in the daylight was all so strange. People would always stare at them if she did. It felt uncomfortable. Cuddle him at night was better anyway since she could touch his skin and no one would see, at night she could hold him tightly and nobody would look at them as if it was odd.

She never told anyone how she would touch his skin when they slept. Nor they would comment between them. Deeply she also knew she shouldn't be so close with him. Deeply she knew that what they did every night was a secret. She knew that if anyone found out they would send her back to her rooms.

He needed distraction she knew. That was probably why he has gone training by himself. Maybe Theon or Sansa said something hurtful again.

She started to tell him of her plans. Soon he was normal again. He would smile at her. He would play with her and he even said he will help her put peppers into Sansa and Jayne's food. Arya preferred him like that. See Jon hurt made her feel hurt too. It made her want to find whoever let him sad and avenge him.

He was happy again and she was glad. She looked at his smile her eyes focusing on his lips. What will Jon do if she asked him to kiss her? She mused. Arya knew that he was probably a good kisser. As she had told him she did hear some girls commenting about him giggling even more than they did when one of them talked about Theon or even Robb. And that was probably a good sign since a lot of girls giggle when they talk about Robb.

She bit her lip. She wanted to ask him. But how? And what will he say? She shouldn't kiss Jon because he was her brother. She knew that. But people don't get her, do they? It was just like sleeping with him. Jon was better than the others. He was the only person she truly trusted. She loved all her brothers but she loved Jon more. Jon was special.

She perched herself in his knees. He looked at her strangely. No, she would not have that. He is thinking on whatever left him sad in the first place isn't him? She looked at him again. Maybe not exactly of what left him sad, but something strange nonetheless.

She heard him take a deep breath. In an impulse her mind choose for her. She pulled him inside and he felt rather ungracefully in the hot spring. A giggled escaped her as he emerged.

He looked at her and her giggles fit ceased immediately. Why was he looking at her like that? She unconsciously wet her lips. Jon hair was wet and water was still running down his face. His body language was different than usual. She took in his stare again, she felt somewhat embarrassed. Did Jon always look like that? He looks… what's the word again? Appealing. Her heart starts to pound inside her chest.

He pulled her into his arms in one swift motion and his lips were abruptly above hers. Oh! His lips feel so good. She hears a noise and he bends above her. She feels something wet and really hot brushing her lips and her mouth opens a bit when she identify what it is. His tongue is inside her mouth and it feels wonderful. She is glad she is underwater because she feels really dizzy. Her knees are strangely wobbly. She thinks she will fall. When did standing become so hard? She throws her arms around his neck. Please hold me, Jon. Her mind begs.

He pushes her again and her back is now against something firm. She is glad. It's easier to stay up when he is holding her against something. She flickers her tongue in his mouth. She should have done this before. It's amazing. His hands are doing circle patterns in her belly. Damn! Her hands are moving without her permission in his nape. She wants to touch him. He is kissing her so hard that she can barely breathe but it still feels like the best thing in the world. She moans, she want to feel him more.

He must be hearing her thoughts because he moves closer his hands almost touching her breasts. She notices for the first time how her nipples feel hard. She also feels something pulsing lower in her belly. Whatever it is, it's flaring and she feels hot. He presses his body against her. Oh! She feels like she is melting. Is that possible? Is it possible to melt because Jon is kissing her? She can feel something hard pressing in her tights. Is that what she thinks it is? He moves his hands just an inch and another noise escapes her lips. She is not even trying to contain it. Who cares if it's embarrassing?

He lets out a sound it's almost like growling. She feels him rubbing his hardness against her tights. She feels almost powerful. She is marveling in the fact that he is hard for her and she is melting. She feels herself damp between her tights. His hands are brushing her breasts. She wants him to touch her more. She wants to touch him more. She kisses him fiercely.

Then he stopped. Abruptly. Why did he stop? She wanted more of that. More of his kisses more of his wandering hands…

- Arya!

Hm? Somewhere in her mind she identified her mother calling her.

- Will you please behave? – Lady Catelyn continued.

What in the Seven Hells is her mother going on about? – Hm? – She tries.

- You aren't even paying attention are you? I said to you today we will go buy new dresses for you. So can you please behave like a proper daughter? Instead of trying to get yourself in trouble?

Oh dresses. She forgot her mother told her that she "have to buy new dresses". She thought about an answer… - Yes, mother. – She is almost sure that's exactly what her mother wants to hear.

She looks into her mother eyes. Yes, she got it. Her mother was staring at her with a very pleased expression. That was unbelievable easy.

She finished eating. And Jon is still not here. Robb is here with Theon so he is not with them. Why haven't he came? She needed to talk to him. To ask him to do _that _again. To tell him that she don't care if it's wrong. That she wants to kiss him again and again and again.

She got up. Going once again straight for his room. He has to go back to his room eventually, hasn't he? She opened the door the room was dark but she could see his figure in the bed. Was he sleeping already? The shirt that he landed her yesterday was still there. She grabbed it and put it on. Maybe she should just sleep too. Tomorrow when he wakes up she will tell him.

She climbed his bed musing about how much she wanted to pass her hands over him when they were at the hot spring. She crawls under the sleeping furs and slide into her favorite position. He breaths out her name and then suddenly he is pushing her away. She feels a pang in her chest. Jon never pushes her away.

- Arya. What are you doing? – He says. His voice sounding startled.

- You were sleeping already and I didn't want to wake you up. – She answered almost shyly.

He takes a deep breath. – Arya… about what happened… before… well, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong of me. It's just. No. I can't even try to explain. But I think we can't sleep together anymore. Not now with me…

He doesn't finish the sentence but she thinks she can understand. It is something "wrong". But why something wrong felt so right? He shouldn't be sorry at all. She wanted to. She kissed him back. Be in his arms could not be wrong.

- Jon, why are you apologizing? I kissed you too, you know. It's not your fault. – She says.

His reaction is instantaneous. He stares at her weirdly and his body tenses. He gulps before saying his next words.

- Arya, I'm your brother. It is wrong. – He says matter of factly.

- We're both wrong then. Because I kissed you too, and it felt wonderful, Jon. It felt like the rightist thing in the world.

- Arya you know it's wrong. I started! – He almost spits the word – It's my fault. You don't understand.

- I know it's supposed to be wrong. But how can I think that when it was like discover a new world?

- Stop saying these things. – His voice was troubled – You never even cared about this sort of things before! You don't even know what you are talking about!

- But I do Jon. I thought about it. I thought about kissing you. I was going to do that you know, ask you to kiss me.

He appeared shocked more than shocked even. So she continued. – I just never had connected the fact that I wanted you to do that or how much I wanted to do that to.

- Arya please, stop. You know is not like that. This is not a prank. One of these days you'll be promise to marry someone. You'll go somewhere and this will be just a sad memory.

- I'll never go marry anyone, Jon! You should know that. I would rather rot in the dungeons! You think I don't listen to mother when she says exactly that? That I'll marry some southern boy? I ignore her every time. I'll never go marry someone. The only man I ever wanted to be close was you. You know that. That didn't change. The difference is that now I want you… in other ways as well.

He looked pained. His face was turn in a strange expression that was a mixture of pain and the same expression he gave her at the hot springs when he was about to kiss her.

- You're my little sister. You'll always be that. – The words didn't seem to come easy from him now. – You'll change your mind, Arya when you marry all this nonsense will pass. You'll want to kiss other boys to. You're just thinking like that because of what I did.

- No I won't! You are you Jon. You're the only man I want to kiss. – _I love you _she wanted to add but the words were caught in her throat. – I know is wrong. But we could be wrong together?

- What you are suggesting is madness, Arya. Can you even think on what would happen if anyone find out? Or how wrong this really is!

- Tell me you don't want it to. You kissed me first, Jon. Didn't it felt right for you to? – Her heart was clenching. He should feel this way to.

Jon didn't reply at first. He kept staring at her his expression unreadable. – I can't… it's just wrong, Arya.

- So answer me why you did it? Better yet kiss me again and say you don't want to be wrong. – She felt tears prickling her eyes. This was so frustrating. Why he did it then? She thought he did it because he also wanted her more.

- I don't need to do that. – He whispered – I already know the answer.

Arya knew Jon never lied to her. No matter what she asked him, he would always say the truth.

- Will you tell me? – She asked.

Jon didn't give her the answer though. He pulls her again and kisses her. Slower than the last time, he kissed her without a single touch of despair this time. Arya knew his answer then.

**N/A: **First thank you all for reading! For putting the fic on your favs, alerts etc. Special thanks for who reviewed. I'm so glad you guys liked the first chapter. If depended of me this fic would never have seen the day light. So if you people liked it, thank Lady Bee that said a hundred times I was being silly and check out her fics.

I found that Jon music for the whole fic is Muse - Starlight. I'm still looking for Arya song. When I was almost finishing I was listening to The Vaccines - All In White all thanks (again) to Lady Bee (that evil woman) that keeps passing me good songs when I'm writing. I highly recommend you people to listen the all the songs because they are all beautiful and full of love. xD

I promise I'll try my best to post the third chapter soon. And since this chapter was a bit M rated I would really love to know what you guys thought about it. Again forgive me for my bad grammar and I really hope you all like this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE **

Jon could feel Arya's hands clutching in the back of his shirt. It was very dark and he couldn't quite see her face. He was almost overwhelmed with the noises she kept doing from time to time. But he would still give a lot to see her face now. To see just how flushed he have left her.

She did another one of this needy gasps passing her nails in the flesh of his back. His hands unconsciously dug further on her legs. Part of his mind that one that still would feel guilty sometimes thought that coming here was the worst idea he ever had. The other part of him though, the one that felt that nothing could be more right than losing himself there with her thought this was the best idea he ever had. He was almost convinced that the second part was right.

Her legs pushed him closer to her. Yep. This was the fucking best idea he ever had. They have been doing this a lot lately. Kissing that would suddenly turn into kissing with hands. At first Jon tried he really tried not to do nothing. Not to touch her. It was bad enough to be kissing his sister. Touching her would be beyond wrong.

That was before she started to touch him. Her hands, those devious hands of her, would scratch his back, touch his neck, spread against his stomach and run down his legs. Saying "no" to Arya was almost as saying "please try" and she did tried until he just gave up. It was wrong but he was already wrong, wasn't he? If you'll end up paying the price you could at least commit the crime. That was what Old Nan used to say.

Jon guesses he could say he was addicted. Because that was a really suitable world for what he was doing. He was totally addicted in Arya. She would pull him in almost every shadowy nook she could find and turn those sweet addictive lips to him. Now he was pulling her. His hands would also wonder down her back. He would press himself in her as she pressed herself in him.

Robb almost caught them twice. In the very day this _madness _started and another time later on. The first they only escaped because by the time Robb entered the room they were already laying in the bed and the room was dark enough for Robb don't see they were not under the sleeping furs. The second they only escaped because Robb was to tipsy from mulled wine to notice them fumbling each other.

They were almost discovered by Lady Catelyn at the Godswood, but thank the gods Ghost and Nymeria were their allies. At least they didn't think they were wrong. He would walk imaging if he could kiss her in that corner, if nobody would see them against that nook. So now they were here, at the crypts because the dead's don't tell secrets. They don't go up to reprimand you.

Jon was touching the flesh of her thighs. How in the Seven Hells did that happen? He wondered vaguely. His hands must have a life of their own because they always find a way of touching Arya heated flesh.

She breathed out his name in a long whisper. He could feel a shiver pass through her. He fought the urge to open her legs and ravish her. Fuck! He liked that. He absolutely loved when she would say his name like that. As if she is fighting an urge as big as his. It felt so true when she said that.

He pulled her closer making her stay on the edge of the tomb she was currently seated on. He breathed her name rubbing his lips on her neck. Taking a moment so his lungs could recover from the lack of air. Her fingers were making tiny circles on his nape. _I love you so much. _He thought fervently.

Jon could feel her smile. – What? – He asked resting his forehead on hers.

- I don't know. I think I have never felt so happy. – She said pressing his mouth in a soft kiss – I love your hair.

He smirked. If she didn't like it he would cut it out for her. He would do anything if that meant she would be pleased. At least something's did not change.

- I love yours to. – He said mussing her hair. He really does love it.

- Do you sometimes think we should stop? – She asked suddenly serious.

- Yes. – He replied. Sometimes the guilty would consume him so hard that he would brush his skin until he was all red. Maybe he could rub the feeling off by scrubbing it out. It never did. If anything kiss her only made the feeling stronger. If he was really honest with himself he could admit she crawled under his skin alright but also crawled inside his heart. Deeper than he could imagine was possible. He loved her like a woman now, not like his sister (but there are still some sort of thoughts that would be better to rest burry deep in his soul) – But I can't stop it.

- Neither can I. – She said – Yesterday when I was doing needlework I was thinking about that day at the Godswood, remember? When Rickon run exactly in front of us?

- Yes. – Yes he did, and his hair will soon turn white from all the worry that keeps building inside him when someone almost catches them.

- I thought about it so hard I even plucked my finger! – She said in a surprised and indignant tone.

She should see him trying to train. It was like his thoughts were all occupied by her. – What exactly were you thinking?

He could feel her averting his eyes even in the dark. He loved when she acted like that, embarrassed. He heard her smirk then. – I was thinking… about that adorable whimper you did when I pressed you against that tree.

- I did not whimper! – He denied, vehemently. The guts of this woman! He did not make this embarrassing sort of noises.

- Maybe I should make you do it again? – She said and he knew she was smirking. The little prankster!

- You could try. – He smirked to.

Arya kissed him immediately and maybe just maybe he could admit she did succeed in making him whimper. If he was under torture that is. A gradual tightening of her arms and he stood almost between her thighs. He could feel her breasts pushing slightly into his ribs as they flattened against his body when she bends to kiss him. His heart is beating quickly. She'll drive him mad. Madder than the Mad King.

She arched her back, getting closer, seeking out his hardness, rubbing herself against him or maybe it was he rubbing himself against her, he couldn't tell. He cups her breasts brushing her nipple with his thump. He wanted to scrap his teeth along it, to suck it, lick it and bite it. Arya was squirming somehow restlessly, straining for friction. Her hands reach for him, tugging at the laces of his breeches. He groaned his heart pounding. Seven Hells!

Jon could barely think his head was full with unleashed lust. He struggle. He probably never struggle so hard in his life to maintain a tad of control of his mind.

- No, Arya. – He managed to say, untangling their mouths for a moment.

Her hips bucked up, pressing that indescribably heat in him. He bit her neck in response.

- Please – The tone of her voice letting he know that she was begging. A grin turned his lips. Arya begging. If it was possible he felt even more strained inside his clothes. His hands trailed her body kissing her deeply until he touched her in the exact spot she (he) wanted the most. He could see the shadow of her eyes squeezing shut, she drawn in a breath that was coming out in harsh exhales as he pressed one finger on her. He could feel dampness going through her smallclothes.

The sound she let out was agonizingly good. It broke him. It broke his resolution. His notion of what was right or wrong or worst. He felt his blood boiling as if his blood was made of wild fire and Arya was the spark that set him on. The next thing he knew was that he could feel Arya curls and moisture on his fingertips. Suddenly a perfectly clear thought went through his mind. Somebody was looking for them. He let go of her mouth.

- Arya…

- Somebody is looking for us – She answered him.

- We should go. – He finished the thought that was on their minds.

He helped her get up. He noticed her knees were trembling slightly. He really liked that more than he should.

- One last kiss before we go? – Arya said.

He kissed her again, deeply and slowly, a kiss that talked of impossible loves and addictions. They climbed the stairs holding hands. He opened the door.

- I will go to the kitchens and try to steal a blackberry tart. Do you want me to take one for you? – Arya said as they went out in the cold wind.

- If you can. – He smiled – I'll go to the yard and try to train, before Ser Rodrick beat me black and blue.

He walked towards the yard. The cold wind felt good against his heated cheeks. He started to train. Trying to forget what he did. What he should not have done. How that happened? Really, when did his control become so… feeble? She was going to leave his hair as grey as the Stark dire wolf for sure.

He noticed Bran staring at him from the corner of his eye. He looked at Bran. It was a peculiar face, like he was confused. Almost as if he wanted to ask a deep and hard question. He did not like that face. That face spelled trouble and concern.

- Is everything alright, Bran? – He asked concerned.

- Yes. It's just a dream I had, a disturbing one. – Bran answered almost cautiously.

- A nightmare? – He asked then. Nightmares were easy enough to deal.

- Not quite that. – He could see Bran frown – It was you… - Bran frown was deeper now – And Arya… and you two were…

He could feel his hair turning white as white as his namesake. Did he saw them? But he said it was a dream… He was thankfully saved because Theon choose that moment to show up.

- Training, Snow? I would tell you to find a woman to take away this sour face out of you, not a sword. – Jon should have punched him, but he let this one pass. Awkward conversation avoided, thankfully.

- You want me to kick the Seven Hells out of you, Jellyfish? – He snorted back at Theon.

- If you're as lazy with your sword as you are with your cock then I have nothing to fear. – Theon replied.

- Oh, I promise to finish you as quickly as you finish inside a woman. – He japed – Everybody's know that jellyfishes don't live long out of water.

He heard Bran laugh. Theon stared back at him with a smirk on his face.

- In a bad mood, Snow? – Theon said.

- You cannot even guess. – He retorted.

- Not my problem. I don't have time to deal with little virgins anyway. I'm just here to tell you that your Lord father want both of you at the great hall. – Theon said turning his back to them. – I'll find Robb.

- We should go then – He said to Bran.

Bran got up and they walked towards the great hall. Lord Eddard must have important news to share.

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Arya stole two tarts from the kitchens one for her and one for Jon. She was craving sweets more than she normally did. She bit her tart, hmm this was delicious! I should have got one more. She thought. She wondered if Jon mouth would be as sweet if she kissed him after he ate his own tart. That must be good. She probably should try that. She took another bite from that amazing tart. Yep, most definitely kiss Jon with blackberries tarts is a must.

- Arya! Why do you keep disappearing? Septa Mordane and I looked for you everywhere! You missed another one of your needles lessons!

How in the Seven Hells that keeps on happening with her? It seems Sansa was always looking for her lately. Can't she be glad that she is not eavesdropping her and Jeyne speaking like two crazy women when they are doing that awful task?

- I was busy Sansa. – She said rolling her eyes. Well, that was true. She was occupied enough in a much more enjoyable task. She smirked remembering exactly what she and Jon did at the crypts today. She should make him do that again.

- Well, father wants us to meet him in the great hall. You can at least brush your hair it looks more wild than usual. – Sansa said in that tone that said she should give up of being a Lady and just become a Septa.

Sansa looked at her and tried to comb her hair with her hands. Dammit. She wanted to scream she was not a doll to be treated like that. Humph. Her mood soured. Couldn't Sansa leave her alone?

Eventually they went to the great hall. Father was seated at his chair her mother was seating beside him. Whatever it was it must be important considering her father expression. She spotted Jon seated next to Bran and went to seat at his side.

She seated next to Jon and Bran stared at her weirdly. What? She tried asking him with her eyes. But her mother chose that moment to speak.

- Today your father received a raven from the King. He informed us that Jon Arryn is dead, and that he will come with the court to Winterfell. We must prepare to receive them. I want you all in your best behavior. – Her mother paused staring at each one of them as if to reinforce her words. Arya couldn't help to noticed that her mother stared at Jon longer than the rest of them. – Mind your courtesies and work hard at your lessons we must show King's Robert the best qualities of house Stark.

Sansa let out a shriek. – Seven help me! The court will come here! Knights and princes it's like a song! Oh father can we have a feast and musicians? We should make lemons cakes! Oh, and a joust! Please let us have a joust!

Seven Hells! That will be a boring month. Would Sansa be like that until the King comes? Why was she so excited anyway? Okay, the King would visit them but wasn't he his father friend? It will be another boring feast with boring people and silly giggly girls. Oh and she just knew they would make her wear dresses, thousands of them! Maybe even a corset! Hells! It will really be a horrible month.

- You can help your mother with the details, Sansa. – Lord Eddard said interrupting Sansa endlessly babble.

- Mother! We have to buy new fabrics! For new dresses! With laces and embroideries! – Sansa let out another one of those really piercing shrieks. – A pink one for me! To match my hair!

Arya looked at her mother. Lady Catelyn was smiling. That was bad. That meant that her mother was agreeing with Sansa. Geez, this is bad. This is really bad. New fabrics meant a lot of needlework. She saw her father get up and leave. Maybe she should follow the boys? They will probably talk about something more fun like battles and swords. She tried to get up. Her mother saw her movement almost immediately.

- Please stay, Arya. We should talk about proper dresses for you too. – Her mother said. She almost groaned. Already? Why couldn't she wear one of her old already done dresses? Why make a new one?

- Oh Arya! Your dress should be blue! Maybe with some grey fur on the shoulders! I can just see it! You'll be like a pretty little lady! Won't she mother? – Sansa said.

- Yes. We should consider combing your hair up. A long braid might be ideal. – Lady Catelyn considered. – You're at age to start braiding your hair properly.

She was definitely not enjoying that conversation. Septa Mordane made a noise to draw everyone's attention. Well, every one of the women at least.

- She has to improve her needlework by then. Stop missing her classes. – Septa Mordane said.

That must be some conspiracy against her. Arya could just see. It will be many, many, _many _afternoons to do that bloody dress. Mother started to rant her about missing lessons again. Sansa and Jeyne started to sing. If this was not hell she didn't know what could be.

"_I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream  
I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a-gleam  
Yet I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem  
But if I know you, I know what you do,  
You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream"_

- Sing with us, Arya! – Sansa and Jeyne asked her. Are they mad?

They were already giggling. It downed on her the feeling that she wouldn't be able to escape this. Damn! That also meant she wouldn't be able to stay with Jon. No time with Jon because of some stupid dress. The knowledge soured her humor even more. She would meet him only at night it would seem. Such a waste of time.

- We will meet the prince! – Sansa said excited – I bet he is pretty and kind and brave… Is he pretty mother?

- I heard that prince Joffrey is quite comely – Her mother answered smiling.

After what appeared like hours she was utterly bored. Her head was hurting. She considered that maybe a new dress wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. The one she was wearing was uncomfortably tight at her chest. The problem was that all that talk was all so tiring. She wanted to snuggle Jon and eat another tart and sleep.

She was almost dozing of when her mother finally told her to go sleep. Arya got up, her legs were stiff. Without even stop to consider she went to Jon's room. She opened the door waiting to see him there like he so often was. He wasn't there yet, but she snuggled in his bed all the same his smell filing her lungs. Her humor turned up again. This dizziness she felt with Jon's scent always made her feel better.

She wakes when Jon seats beside her. He kissed her lips lightly.

- Did I wear you off, she wolf? – He asked her smiling.

- You just lost your tart, smarty. – She manages to say between yawns.

-You can keep my tart if I win a kiss? Can it be? – Jon said climbing on the bed.

She wanted to slap him, but he was so cute she gave up and just gave him his kiss. Jon pulled her head into his chest and she slept.

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He walked into a bedchamber. One that was not familiar to him. He could smell winter roses. A woman's bed chamber. He saw silk hanging from the bed posts like veils. White veils around the bed. He felt another smell, a ponged and metallic smell. He got closer, his heart almost stopped, he saw Arya lying on the bed covered in blood.

Jon jolted awake, his heart racing, his breathe was short. He hugged her tightly, Arya was breathing, sleeping at peace. He thanked the gods, but the smell of blood was there. He felt something wet in his thigh he moved the furs and saw blood upon the sheets spreading over his own clothes. At first he thought he was losing it, until he realized she was not dying just… changing.

He did not know what to do, think or say. Should he awake her? He gulped. This was a particularly area of the feminine universe that he was not acquaintance with. Everything seemed to be a bad idea.

She must have felt cold when he seated because she opened her eyes. She stared at him, took in his expression and frowned. Arya tried to seat and that was when she noticed that something had happened. She frowned deeper than she blushed crimson. She got up and run out of the room.

She startled Robb that jumped awake when she passed. He wondered briefly if Robb saw her stained clothes when she ran away. Then he saw Robb staring at him and he knew that Robb understood then.

Jon saw Robb staring at him, his face changing. He knew Robb wanted to say something. It was something that he would not like to hear, but he didn't say anything. He saw Robb look down his head turning side to side. Robb rose he looked at him again and his expression was grave. Then Robb left the room and he was alone.

He looked at the blood staining his sheets. He knew that should change the way he felt about her, but it didn't. When he thought of Arya he could still feel the same fire rising in his blood. The want and the need boiling in his veins. She was the center of his life and now it seemed that his life was being consumed in blood and fire.

**N/A: **Please don't kill me? xD That chapter was really hard to write because I was in the wrong mood for writing the M scenes and the anhh awkward scene? O.o' So please tell me what are your thoughts people! Thank you all for reviewing, following, etc xD Oh I guess someone asked me about Jon and Arya age... well I was trying not to think to hard about it. Can you people think she is old enough not to be a kid but (until this chapter at least) not a "woman flowered" and ready to wed? Jon is older, about 3 or 4 years older. Also this fic it's pretty AU so don't expect to see many things from the books. Oh yeah I'm a HUGE Disney fan... and yes the song is from Sleeping Beauty because I imagine Sansa to be like Aurora. You know persons who like to sing and all. See you all next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Robb was a traitor! A filthy traitor! How dare him! He should never have opened his mouth! He should never have told mother! Why did he do that? She felt tears prickle her eyes. Damn him! Damn mother! Damn her traitorous body!

Arya felt bad, her body hurt, her chest hurt, her lower stomach hurt even her legs hurt and if it couldn't get any worse her mother saw her bathing and took on the opportunity to tell her that now she was not a "child" anymore. That now she was a woman grown and flowered and that she has to change. That she had to stop acting like a child. That she have to act like a proper lady.

No matter what her mother said on truth the only thing that reached her ears was one thing. She couldn't sleep with Jon anymore. That much was clear. That was the only thing that her mother said that she paid any mind. She cried as her mother spoke of marriages, she screamed when her mother said some southern boy name. She screamed saying she didn't care, that she would never be a lady.

Lady Catelyn stayed unmoved. She kept saying that Arya was a Stark. That Arya was a woman, a woman that was daughter of a Lord and that she should act accordingly. She heard the words but they rang… stuffed on her years. Arya felt like she was suffocating. Every time the thought of sleeping away from Jon crossed her mind air seemed to disappear from her grasp. She hadn't uttered a single word about that to her mother nor did her mother say anything. But she knew what she was thinking.

Lady Catelyn seated by her side when she finally broke up completely. Sobs coming out from her in waves, her vision completely blurred. It didn't matter that her mother was holding her. It didn't matter that she was saying she understood. That she knew it was hard to grow. It didn't matter because change meant wearing dresses or combing her hair, it matter because that meant she wouldn't have time for Jon. That she would have to be a lady instead of staying with Jon. Maybe if it was before she could have handled the notion better, but now it was impossible, it was unbearable. Jon was like the air she breathed, the heat that made her feel alive.

Eventually her mother gave up of talking to her. Sansa came and gone. Sansa tried talking about how that was a good thing, but gave up entirely when she couldn't even look in her sister face.

Her father came, he hugged her. He told her that everything would be alright. He told her he understood. He told her she this didn't mean she was leaving home. He told her she could still sneak out to train with the boys when her mother was not looking. He said he wouldn't tell. She manages to smile at her father, a very discreet smile. But she never felt a pain like that before. She loved her father, her mother, her brothers and her sister. But most of all she loved Jon now more than ever.

Bran brought her food, she didn't eat. Rickon opened her door entered her room hugged her and left, his cheeks crimson. Robb, the bloody traitor hadn't showed up and neither did Jon.

Jon. Thinking on him made her eyes swell with tears all over again. When did she become one of those girls? That cried without motive? But it wasn't without a motive was it? Arya remembered his face when she woke up. She never seen Jon scared of something but that morning that was exactly what she saw on his face. She saw fear a fear so deep that left his eyes gleaming empty. She also saw shame. He was ashamed maybe as much as she was.

He wouldn't want her anymore. Not after that. She saw how her blood has stained his clothes. He must be disgusted. The notion made her heart ache with pain. She tried to find a place in "her bed" that didn't make her feel so uncomfortable, but it just didn't felt right. All was wrong, the smell was wrong, the sheets were wrong… and now she would never be at the right bed again.

It was night already somewhere along the pain and suffering her eyes had close. The lack of sounds indicated it was late. She wanted to hug Jon. She wanted Nymeria and Ghost by her side as they always were but they were out hunting.

- I thought you will never wake up. I was starting to worry. – She heard the most perfect whisper. It was Jon. Her heart swelled.

She looked at him and felt shamed. Would he even look at her now? She tried to say something but the words didn't come out. Even if you could say something, what would you say? She wondered. He must have felt her indecision.

- I tried to come sooner, but Robb was eyeing me weirdly the whole day – He said.

Robb the Traitor that's how he should be called. She tried to say something but the only thing that came out from her mouth was a veiled attempt to say his name. How can one name mean so much?

- Arya… I understand if you don't want to… stay with me anymore. – He paused and she was mortified. No, Jon. Please, please don't leave me, her mind was screaming. Before she could say anything though, he continued – I understand, and I'll go away. I'll stay away from you if that's what you wish.

- Jon… - she tried to say but he interrupted her.

- No. Let me finish. – He said, paused and taking a breath continued – But I can't just be your brother anymore. I thought that we could end this madness when we wanted. I thought that I could end this whenever I wanted. I thought things like what happened today would put some sense in me. But it didn't. – He paused again, taking another deep breath – I can't let you go. I'm no capable of it, not anymore. I know these feelings are wrong but even knowing that... I'm just not able to fight it. Arya, my blood boils in my veins whenever you touch me, but is more than that… I love you. I love you more than I should. I love you not as my sister. I love you more than my honor and myself.

She heard him and his words seemed like something that came out from a dream. She felt tears pooling in her eyes. Her breath was so heavy she couldn't speak, so instead of speaking she kissed him, fervently, deeply, madly. Trying to convey in a kiss what she couldn't let out in words. When their lips parted she felt more like herself again.

- I love you. – She said. – I thought you would never want to see me again and it hurt, Jon. It hurt so much. The whole day people came to say that I shouldn't be afraid of growing up. But I'm not afraid of growing up. I was afraid of losing you. I love you. I never want to leave you.

They kissed for a long time and it was tender, their hands didn't wondered. He seated in the bed and pulled her, placing her back against his chest. He set little pecks on her neck.

-They spoke with me too, you know. – Jon said his voice low – Lady Catelyn mostly and then Father.

- They did? – She asked curious. What in the Seven Hells would they want with Jon?

- Yeah. Lady Catelyn just talked on and on about how I should have made you sleep in this bed I guess, instead of ours.

She wanted to smile. Ours bed. But then…- Don't think they will let me come back. – She said.

- Maybe we should change beds – Jon said pressing another kiss on her neck. She chuckled.

- Each bed should we take? You don't fit this bed. – She replied.

- I can fit here alright if you stay really close – He said playful.

They passed a while in silence. Arya felt better, way better. Jon presence seemed to take away all her pains.

- It won't be every night though. – She said eventually.

- No it won't. – He agreed softly.

- It's unfair. If we were any other couple it would be different.

- Oh, love, if it was different… If we weren't brother and sister – the word seemed to come hard to him - I would take you to me.

That night they slept together, holding each other tightly. Afraid that if they let it go the other could just fade away.

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Jon awake up early. This time not because he need it. He awoke because of the noise. Today was the day that King Robert was supposed to arrive. All Winterfell was awake, getting the last details ready for the king and his court.

Everybody seemed to be busy. The women were busy with the decorations, the food, tables sets and clothes. The men were polishing their arms and taking out their good clothes. Everybody seemed to be occupied with something. Everybody except for Jon.

He hadn't anything to do. He was just the bastard. The bastard of Winterfell. He would not meet the King, or sit at his table as a Stark. He would sit far away from his father, his brothers and far from Arya. Lady Catelyn told him that to. It was improper to present bastards to the King. So her precious children should be separated from him. He felt like a stain in the middle of his high born siblings. He always felt a bit left out. An outcast.

He have barely saw Arya. She was dragged in the middle of the giggling women. He could hardly kiss her. Ever since she… flowered… it would seem that there was always a woman trying to drag Arya away from him. He felt lonely. He missed her. He missed her companion. He missed her arms around him. _He missed her. _

It's not like he wouldn't sneak into her room. He did… often. But it was harder now that everybody was paying attention. Especially with Septa Mordane and Sansa quarters being so close to Arya's. In truth he almost didn't slept anymore. His dreams would be full of visions of Arya leaving him. He would only sleep well when she was in his arms.

He couldn't bring himself to talk with Robb for hours like they did before. He felt betrayed. If nobody had found out… she would still share his bed. He needed her. He wanted her for himself. He wanted to take her away before anyone could take her from him.

He was seated in the Godswood again, against a tree, against their tree. It would appear that here was the only place at the castle that he could have peace. Or at least pretend to have. He remembered once again that day. How could everything change so much in a few hours?

He remembered how only days earlier they had being here, kissing. She seated on his lap with her legs holding him beneath her. He thought he would never fight for control as hard at the day at the crypts. He was completely wrong. That day they had escaped their rooms and met here.

Somehow they have ended up like that. She seated above him, moving her hips, rubbing against him. Making him mad, making him loses his control. His hands were making circles on her hard nipples. Sometimes his hips would go up to meet hers. It was a dangerous game but he missed her so much. How could he maintain logic when she was not there with him?

The time they spend far from each other made the flames on his blood to go wilder. Her hands wondered on the hair of his nape and then she moaned. A delicious moan. That was when he lost it. His hands went down her clothes, finding her bare chest. He lifted her dress and was mesmerized with the sight of her body, of her pale breasts and pink nipples. He wanted to touch her, to pass his hands above her body and caress her small breast and so he did. He rubbed her nipples with his thumb like he did that day at the crypts. He felt that urge rise in him again he wanted to scrap his teeth along it, to suck it, lick it and bite it, and so he did.

She moaned, rubbing against him harder. That woman had no sense at all. Doesn't she know what he wanted to do with her? Before he knew it his hands were searching her smallclothes. He shivered when he felt the damp there. She pressed herself against him again and he shivered once more. This time she didn't beg. This time she didn't even need it. He saw when she dragged a deep breath, and the way she whimpered when his fingertips touched the moisture between her legs.

His finger dipped into her slick folds. Gods! Does she have to be that wet? So inviting? He heard her gasp as she opened her legs unconsciously. Sliding deeper into the moisture gathered there, he moved his finger across her moisture spreading it. He backs up touching a tiny nub that he knew would make her spasm in pleasure. He rubs against the nub and she arches her hips up, letting out a moan that only made him hungrier.

He could almost feel her heart pounding. Her breaths were coming out in heavy pants. She looked at him with wide eyes and he knew she was close. He wanted to take her. Like his woman. He could feel her arousal climbing, washing over her in burst of pleasure. His hands moved faster over her. She tensed more, her hips thrusting at his hand, searching for something to fill her.

His blood boiled with the thought of filling her, of filling her with him, making Arya his. He fought a groan, he couldn't take her. He couldn't because she was not any girl she was Arya from House Stark a woman that would grow to marry a noble Lord, not a woman for a bastard like himself. He couldn't make her his, but he could give her that. He felt when her body jerked as her release rocket through her like a hot wave. He kissed her containing the scream of pleasure she let out as she came. He didn't stop he kept moving his fingers flicking her sensible flesh as spasm after spasm washed over her.

As her body dropped boneless over him, he saw her eyes closing as she concentrated on breathing. He could feel the small shocks of pleasure pulsing through her. He kissed the top of her head, wishing she could understand how much he loves her. Wishing she understood that it was a love he wasn't able to convey in simple words. He wished that she understood that couldn't say it because he feared that putting this feeling into words would make it too real… it would make it into something too strong. Something he wouldn't be able to fight against.

He heard someone shouting announcing that the King and his court would arrive soon. He ignored it at first. What's the point of seeing kings and queens if the only queen that mattered was the one who ruled his heart? He sighed then he grinned. He had to wait regardless, until the memories stopped making him burn.

When he finally was able to stand his hands touched the tree. He couldn't help the grin that spread through his face. The last thought he had before joining the rest of Winterfell was the memory of Arya's flushed face how she kissed him softly and how she said "I want to touch you too. I want to have you too".

Jon knew all the stories about the king's rebellion that's why he was surprise to see that the king was a large man not anything like the warrior he pictured. The queen was really blonde and he guessed people could say she was pretty but her face had something sour in it, like she was permanently displeased.

That night at the feast he sat far away from the main table. It was a strange sight to look at his siblings that far. He kept reminding himself that he was not a Stark. He saw Robb clearly trying to act like a proper older brother. Bran was clearly bored one could see that his mind was elsewhere even from afar. Rickon was snoozing with his head over the table. Sansa was the only one that was beaming with pure content, giggling and blushing almost every time the prince talked with her.

His eyes fixed on Arya on the other end of the hall, Gods, it was only him or she gets lovelier by the hour? She was wearing this deep blue dress with a grey fur on her shoulders her hair was arranged in this intricate braid. Her expression said that she was tired but even tired she was the prettier woman at the feast.

As he gazed her he couldn't help the little pang in his heart every time he noticed another men looking at her. Imaging how she would become a pretty wife probably. He felt another pang this one deeper as he thought of losing her. Could a man lose his heart and soul and live? Could he live without her? No. The statement crossed his mind like an arrow. No he couldn't live without her. No he couldn't let another man love her, touch her, have her. He grinned as he drank another cup of wine. Was he not a lost man?

The worst was that little fact that he believed her. That he believed her when she would say she loved him. That she wanted to be his, that no other man would have her, that no other man would touch her. Part of him wished to know if he could let her go if he didn't believed her words. He gulped another cup of wine as his uncle Benjen sat by his side.

His uncle asked him if he still wanted to leave for The Wall. He could say he felt physically pain when he answered his uncle that yes he still wanted (wished he could) became one of the members of the Night's Watch maybe a ranger. One day he knew he would have to choose between leaving Arya to the life of a Lady let her go to marry some proper Lord. Or follow her whenever she went even if that seemed unlikely. He wished that he could do that at least, follow her until the day she commands him to leave. He wished because one of Jon Snow secrets was the thought (that evil thought) that said that die would be easier than leave her.

He excused himself from his uncle his head heavy with wine. He wandered through the halls, passing some of the shadowy corners and nooks he had kissed her. He ended up in the yard seeking once again release from all the pain, the anger and the frustration he felt whenever he was remembered that Arya could not be his. That he himself was a man grown and soon he should leave Winterfell. He felt Ghost seating near him, he rubbed his head between the ears. _You understand don't you my friend?_ He silently asked the direwolf. _You can't leave Nymeria, I_ _know._ Ghost turned his head up his red eyes staring at him almost like the direwolf could understand his thoughts.

- I want her for myself – he muttered telling his old friend exactly what troubled him – I know it's wrong but I want her to be mine as I am hers.

_The sounds of music and song spilled through the open windows behind him. They were the last things Jon wanted to hear. He wiped away his tears on the sleeve of his shirt, furious that he had let them fall, and turned to go. _

_- Boy - a voice called out to him. Jon turned. _

_Tyrion Lannister was sitting on the ledge above the door to the Great Hall, looking for all the world like a gargoyle. The dwarf grinned down at him. _

_-Is that animal a wolf?_

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Arya was worried. She saw Jon drinking lots and lots of wine during the feast and now he had vanished. She couldn't spot him anywhere. Seven Hells. Couldn't he just stay in someplace where she could see him?

The worst part was that she knew she just knew that if she tried to escape her mother would have a fit. Tommen was a nice kid but no matter how hard she tried her attention was… elsewhere. Soon the boy had turned towards Bran engaging in a fiercely conversation about kittens and climbing and she was left with wondering thoughts about the man she loved. The same man that had disappeared almost two hours ago.

Eventually she manages to sneak out of the table giving an apology look to her mother and yawning loudly. She went straight towards his bedroom, hoping Jon was just sleeping. When she got to the door, she heard giggles. She knew that type of giggles. The type that say someone was very much engage on kissing but that was odd. Very odd coming out from that room. Especially odd since she was not there she thought grinning. She leaned closer trying to hear what was happening. She heard another sound, the sound of clothes been moved.

By the gods! Was that Robb voice? She has thought… so maybe she hasn't thought at all. _Well stupid, who the hell would be inside the room? _She thought to herself. A very fearful part of her mind whisperer that could have been Jon. That could have been Jon in his room with another girl, one with real breasts instead of her small ones. She knew this type of thoughts were foolish, she believed him. She believed when the rare occasions he said with words that he loved her. She believed in the truthfulness of his gestures. She believed because his gestures, his words and his eyes mirrored her own.

Sometimes though… sometimes she would doubt herself. Sometimes she would doubt that he really wanted her small and not very feminine frame in his arms. Sometimes she would think about the things other women could give him the things she would give him freely if he was not so guarded. Oh she knew he wouldn't take it because his worries on this matter at least were mostly about her. At the same time she also knew it that she wanted to be his in that way, to be completely his beyond any worries.

Arya sighed as she entered her room, slightly disappointed that he was not here either. Oh she remembered their pact they did agreed on the not sneaking into each other rooms when the court was here, but why have rules if they cannot be broken sometimes?

She climbed that bed, the one that could not be truly hers and tried her best to settle herself to sleep. Sleeping without Jon was always bad but since they started to be… together, yep together may be the most appropriate word. Since they started to be together and since they started to do things that people do when they are really together it was really difficult for Arya to fall asleep.

It was hard because she missed the comfort of his body next to her, the heat he provided. She missed waking up to gaze at him, to marvel with his face, his eyes, his wild curls and the curve of his lips, she smirked wildly letting out a laugh when the thought crossed her mind, she missed waking up to his hardness, to the notion that she could awake such feelings in him and how he would fight this morning battle against her. After what seemed like hours she finally drifted into sleep.

Arya awoke hours later with a peck on her lips. – Good morning, love. – Jon said landing another soft kiss on her head.

She stretched trying awake properly. She noticed Jon was fully clothed, pity she surely preferred when he came to the room with less clothes on. He certainly caught her staring because when she looked back at his eyes he was grinning.

- I miss sneaking in our bed too, you know. – He said.

She hugged him. Oh Hell! Yes she knew. She kissed his neck. Gods she missed him too.

- You vanished yesterday! I even considered you would be here breaking the rules and all – She provoked.

- You know we can't. – He said softly. She almost rolled her eyes his worriedness was cute but sometimes he just worried too much.

- I know. – She cupped his cheek on her hand – but it would be exciting nonetheless.

- Exciting for you. It's not your neck that would be cut off.

- I guess we can keep on the rules if that mean keeping your pretty head above your shoulders. – She said playfully.

They heard someone knocking and soon Septa Mordane was entering the room. Both of them could see the frown on her face when she saw Jon seated in her bed. Oh yes. Arya remembered "no unmarried woman should be left unaccompanied with a man" apparently Septa's rules extended to brothers as well. This time she did rolled her eyes.

- Arya, your mother is waiting you in the Great Hall to eat with our royal guests. – Septa said looking directly at her, then she moved her gaze towards Jon – You shouldn't enter a woman's room like this Jon.

- I just came to awake my little sister – Jon answered the Septa, as he mussed her hair. – Father asked me to.

Septa Mordane was not pleased but she couldn't really say anything. Jon took his leave graciously. She changed wondering how scandalized Septa would be if she knew the exact amount of clothes Jon had already seen her wearing or not wearing she should say. She put on a deep green dress and tried to settle her hair in a way her mother would consider acceptable.

Arya could say for certain she consider the king annoying. He was loud and was always drinking. The queen was worst the woman would be really pretty she thought if she did not wore that sour and tight expression all the time. Joffrey was clearly a prick and it kind of exasperates her how much Sansa seems to like him. Tommen and Myrcella were alright for kids she guessed. The Kingslayer was really full of himself he could even compete with Theon on that. The Imp was the coolest one he would always give the most amazing answers it was fun to watch him talk.

That day they were supposed to watch some mummers show and then have another feast (seriously who need it so many feasts?) and tomorrow they would all go in a hunt party. The month will be more boring that she imagined.

Later that day on the feast she overheard King Robert talking to father. The King was saying how he thought it will be good to unite Baratheon and Stark houses with a marriage.

- Joffrey and your daughter Sansa form a good pair. They would be mesmerizing as King and Queen, don't ya think, Ned?

Her father expression didn't change at all but she knew he would probably agree. It was royal wedding after all.

- I have to speak with Catelyn about it Robert. – Lord Eddard replied.

- Come on Ned! It would be only right to finally unite our houses like it should have. – The King continued – and if everything went alright we could even arrange a wedding with your youngster with Tommen maybe? That would be also a good match.

Arya almost _almost _screamed she marry that kid?! Not in the Seven Hells she wouldn't. Absolutely not. This King was completely mad. She would never ever go to Kings Landing. Anh Ahn, not in a million years. She would run. She would run away with Jon. As soon as the thought crossed her mind all the other stopped. Could she really do that? She mused. Could she just run away with Jon?

Run away. She thought. That would mean leaving Winterfell obviously but she would probably leave Winterfell one day so that was not the real problem. The real problem would never be able to see her family again but at the same time that would mean she could stay with Jon. Stay with Jon without people knowing who they are. They could be together. Her line of thought was broken when she heard her father answering the King.

- No, Robert. Arya is… - he paused clearly considering his next word – Arya is not ready to marry yet. I'm certain of it.

She could hug her father but the King spoke again. – Really? I thought she was already of age.

Her father looked slightly anxious if she wasn't so nervous with the conversation she would have chuckled Jon did the same expression sometimes.

- Believe me in this one Robert. Is not a question of age she is just not ready yet. – Eddard said in a tone that didn't left any space to further discussion and for that she was thankful. She didn't even want to imagine what would have happened if it was her mother having the same conversation.

They changed subjects and she eventually lost interest in hearing the conversation. She remained worried though. If the King was proposing marriages to her how long will take until her mother and father start to do the same?

Ever since she "flowered" (even thinking about it made her rolls eyes. All that literally bloody mess and people call it flowering) it would seem her time with Jon was ending. She felt like she was running out of time to stay with him. Almost every time they passed together now was hiding from others. People would rarely leave them alone now. Septa, Sansa, mother and even Jeyne would always try to accompany her all the time. People would even look strangely at them when Jon hugged her or mussed her hair. Hugging was another thing ladies shouldn't do at least when it was not a special occasion.

Time never seemed such an important thing. Especially now when she knew that sooner than later she would have to leave Winterfell and Jon. No. Her mind stated she would never leave Jon. They would have to kill her. She knew they could never be together that as brother and sister it was something unacceptable. But… her mind trailed.

She got up determined to find Jon if time was really running out she needed to enjoy every moment she could steal to stay with him.

**N/A: **Hi guys xD Sorry for taking ages to upload this. This chapter was really hard to right and last week my classes came back and I got sick so it was feeling terrible and was really busy. I hope to update sooner now. Oh as always thank you all that commented, favorited and follow this fic. I find extremely amazing that so many people actually likes this fic. Hope you all enjoy this chapter a well. Thank you again. Kisses.


	5. Chapter 5

Jon was worried. They were hunting for three days and now he just found out one of the most disturbing news. Arya was feeling sick and Meister Luwin advised that the best course of action was to take her back to Winterfell. He assured it was nothing serious, maybe a cold of sorts. Nonetheless he was still worried. His love was sick and if that was not bad enough he wouldn't be able to take care of her.

Maybe he should find a way to escape from the hunt party and go back to Winterfell too?  
The news had just reached him when Robb found him. Robb told him that father was asking him to take Arya back to Winterfell since none of the others could leave the King's presence. Even Meister Luwin couldn't go back. That meant whatever Arya had would be treated by Old Nan. _Oh well, that wasn't that bad. _He thought about the thousands of times someone got flu and Old Nan took care of them.

They had put Arya up in a litter and he wanted to peep inside just to secure himself of her wellbeing. He still remembered that dammed nightmare he had. All that blood along with the fear of losing her still too fresh in his memory. He wanted to sneak his fingers inside the litter and hold her hand. Just so he could know for sure that she was alright. He didn't like the fact that she had to go back in a litter. That meant she was probably feeling weak and a weak Arya was enough to make him very worried.

He tried to calm himself, it is just a cold. But then how many man and woman the North lose each year to some silly cold that suddenly turn in a deadly cough? He never thought of losing her like this. He had never considered that some silly sickness could take her away as fast as a marriage proposal. He wanted to curse aloud. He wanted to beat himself black and blue. How many times did he let her stay in the cold wind just so he could kiss her? She could be sick because of his stupid need to kiss her all the time. He frowned feeling a tad guiltier than usual.

The sight of Winterfell gates never seemed so welcoming. As they arrived a bunch of serving girls came to rush Arya inside. He saw when the serving girls helped her to steady her feet. Oh gods, he was truly worried now. Was she that feeling that bad? As he was left behind he considered what would happen if he screamed that she should be taken to his bed? That he would be the one to take care of her? That she was his? That he was not to be left behind?

Nobody came to give him news. Nobody cared to tell him how she was. Jon was pacing, lost in a deep series of thoughts. Why nobody gives him answers? Is Arya alright? Is she really sick? What in the gods name is happening? He hated to be left in the dark like that. He rolled his eyes as fury burned inside him he was still her brother. People should tell him things regarding his sister. That was when he heard a giggle.

- Oh gods – Old Nan stated – I fear the day when you have to wait for your children to be born. You'll leave a hole in the floor bigger than the one you are trying to do now. You are too young to pace like that, young man.

Jon liked Old Nan, like every boy in the castle he grew up listening to her tales. Nonetheless her comment made him feel bitter and he couldn't help but grin.

- I won't father any children, nor shall I marry any woman. I'll go to the Wall. You know that, Old Nan. – He answered trying his best not to sound as bitter as he felt. He wouldn't father any children mostly because that meant taking a woman and the only woman he wanted was the only one he couldn't have.

- We shall see. – Old Nan replied with a soft chuckle - I was looking for you. With Meister Luwin out I have to put these old bones of mine to work. Can you watch your sister for me?

For a heartbeat he felt lucky. For a heartbeat he was almost overwhelmed with joy. An opportunity to be with Arya was so rare nowadays. But that was before he remembered she was sick. He almost screamed at Old Nan in frustration. Was that old woman getting senile? What was he supposed to do if something happened with Arya? He was not very good with healing matters. What if she got worse?

Old Nan must have caught his worries since she went on. – Just make sure she eats and rest. Take her food and watch her. Make sure she doesn't develop a fever and if she does, came and find me. I'll attending by the east tower. - She said already turning her back to him murmuring how much trouble people put upon an old lady like her.

Deciding it was best to obey Old Nan orders since he didn't really have much choice Jon headed towards the kitchen. There he asked the cookers to cook some food for Arya. He also paid two coins for one of the bakers sneak some blackberries tarts into her tray.

He knocked on her door before entering letting himself to be seeing entering her quarters. He opened the Arya's fearfully. He was expecting her to be sleeping, to be coughing not to be merrily passing her eyes over a book.

She smiled broadly when she saw him by the door. Jon didn't know if he should smile or scold her for scaring him. That little prankster! She was not sick. She was not sick at all. He passed the back of his hand on her cheek.

- You shouldn't do that. – He said calmly – I was worried sick because of you.

- You should worry less, Jon. Your hair will turn white before the time if you keep worrying like that.

- I thought you were sick! – He retorted, reaching for her hand and placing a soft kiss on her palm – Why would you pretend to be sick? Were you tired of the hunt?

- I pretended to be sick to be with you, silly. You have some answers to give me. – Arya replied smirking.

They heard a soft nock on her door. Jon seated in the chair across Arya bed as Arya let herself fall over the bed like she was truly sick. Once they settle themselves in some proper position Jon answered letting the serving girl bring the food tray.

When the girl left, Jon instructed Arya to eat. Even if she was not sick she could always use some food.

- You do know that you won't buy me with tarts – she played when she found the blackberries tarts – You still have answers to give me.

- What answers should I give you, love? – He replied playful thinking that Arya was planning some sort of prank with him. He was surprised when she placed the tray carefully on the floor and asked him quite serious to seat by her.

- I heard father talking with Uncle Benjen. – Her eyes dropped towards her covers. – Uncle told father you wanted to go to the Watch. Is that true, Jon? Will you leave me?

Jon felt his chest constricted. She wasn't supposed to find that out. He wouldn't leave her. He would never leave her, but he was not some green boy anymore. He was a man grown and things were expected from him. Things like marriage. Things like joining the Watch. Things he would have to do someday because it was proper. He looked at her face and saw her eyes prying his face.

He tried to speak but it was hard. He had never being good with words. They kept failing him. It failed him now as he didn't find any words to speak aloud.

- Tell me it's a lie, Jon. – Arya said and he could see that her eyes were filling with unshed tears.

He holds her tightly as he tried to calm her as he tried to calm himself. – I'm trying to find a way. – He said almost harshly. – I'm trying to find a way to stay with you.

- But you are still planning on leaving me for the Watch? I told you I would never let you go! Why won't you believe me? Why you want to leave me?

He could feel his own tears pooling in his eyes. That was so hard. – I don't want to leave you! I love you! But it's not only our wish, Arya. I keep trying to find a way but it's so hard! I keep trying to find a way to stay with you always. I keep trying to find a way to convince father, your mother and everyone else that I have to go with you when they decide to send you to marry some southern lord. But it's like running in circles! I can't find an answer.

She tried to speak and he knows what she would say. She would say she wouldn't marry any boy. As much as he loved her conviction he knew he also had to speak his worries someday.

- No, love. You know that. You know that one day no matter what we say they will make you go. And I don't know what I should do when you leave. I don't know if it's best to be away when that happens or should I go with you.

- I know that – she muttered – But… please… If you ever have to choose, don't leave me Jon. I don't think I can live without you. I love you too much to stay without you.

If it was before he would still have argued with her. He would try to convince her that yes she could live without him. He would tell her to forget all this. He would even say for her to stop being silly if he could manage to find that type of courage in him. He couldn't even use reason to argue with her because he believed her every word. Her feeling is too much alike with his own for him to argue. Worst he liked to see his feeling mirrored in her. He would always crave the feeling that grew in him whenever he saw that.

- Arya… you know that it's most likely that they won't let me go. – Weakly he tried to reason with her. _As if you could argue, as if you could ever leave. _His mind whispered back at him even as the words came out of his mouth. He still tried to speak but she stopped his words, kissing him.

- I know. – She breathed against his mouth – So let me steal time whenever I can. Let me be with you.

His mouth opened to argue again. He tried to say that they already discussed that. He tried to find some sense in him and reason that they couldn't steal time for themselves. He tried to say it was dangerous, that they could be caught. That if someone caught them everything would end. He tried to say all these things but her lips were seeking his and all he could do was kiss her back. Soon she was kissing his neck and her hands were reaching the inside of his shirt. By the time he heard her saying "let me have you" he was already doomed.

Jon had to admit he loved to kiss Arya especially when they were lying down. He loved the feel of his body pressed against her. He loved the way her body answered to his touches and arched towards his when he was placed between her legs. He loved to feel how her skin felt hot against his and how she would shiver when his hands caressed her legs, her belly and her breasts.

He kissed her neck getting another moan from her as she scratched his back. His hips bulked involuntary when her body arched once again. His mouth traced a pattern down her neck opening the laces of her dress so he could kiss her breasts.

Jon was soon caught by the same need that compelled him to touch her more. He could feel her legs wrapping his body against her. He could feel how her hips sometimes responded to his involuntary ones. He reached to kiss her mouth again, letting his fingers slid to her center.

Deep inside he knew he had to stop that. He knew he shouldn't play with such feelings. He knew that doing this was making his crave greater. Jon was ashamed to admit that sometimes he couldn't get rid of his need. That sometimes, those times when not even a cold shower made the feeling go away, he had to resorts to others means to solve his problems. Shameful means. Means that involved his hands and the darkest thoughts he ever had about Arya. About the things he wanted to do with her.

On the other hand, he wanted to make her feel that, to make her moan out his name and came undone against his touches. Secretly loving how wet she was when his fingers reached her folds. He started to rub against the nub that made her shiver, moan, gasp and spasm against him.

He wanted to dig his fingers inside her. He wanted to make her pant and lose herself. He was so concentrated in that task that he almost jerked when he felt her hand reach his manhood. First he felt the soft tentative touch. Then he couldn't help but let out a constricted moan as her hand squeezed him harder.

Jon tried to make her stop, because the wave of desire that engulfed him when he felt her touch seemed too strong. He thought it was best to distract her by making his fingers move faster. He felt when her warm hands found him hard inside his clothes. He knew he did an embarrassing sound when he felt her fingers caress him lightly. He must have groaned when he felt the laces of his pants opening letting him free to be touched by her.

He shivered as he tried to concentrate on the task he was at. He fought against the shock not wanting to stop his fingers. Arya made this extremely hard, though. When she grasped around him tightly he almost lost it. When she moaned asking him what she should do, he almost lost it.

Or maybe he did lose all sense of reason because he reached to her hand closing his hand over hers. His breath was coming out in heavy pants as he slid their joined hands along his length. When she starts to pump on her own rhythm he struggles to keep his hands moving over her.

He can hear her getting closer to the edge. For a moment Jon forgets all, duty, honor, sense suddenly turn in to strange notions. He dips one finger inside her before realizing what exactly he is doing. He wakes to his actions with the sudden gasp that came out from Arya. He is rapidly alert of how tight she really is and how much he wanted to feel her. Of how much he wanted to fill her with something more than just his fingers.

His thoughts were filled with idea of entering her. The idea of taking her and make her his. He moved his hand faster making her moan again his other hand squeezing her left breast as he claimed her mouth with his. That fixed idea consuming his thoughts as he drowned on the sensation of her hands moving along his length.

He feels when her release pulses through her, her insides spasm and throb against his fingers. She rocks against his hand as she moans loudly. He feels her pulsing from the inside, contracting around his fingers making her incredible tight. Finally he takes her mouth in his, waiting for their hearts to settle on their normal paces.

Jon was so distracted by Arya release that he didn't notice she had stop moving her hand. As soon as her breath came back she traded positions with him, she cradle him letting his back rest against the mattress. Then she began moving her devious little hand again.

Jon had half hoped she would stop doing that. Even if that other part of him was happy that she continued. He was still hard and stay like that for too long was… uncomfortable. When his hand tried to stop her, she brushed his hand aside muttering about how she wanted him to feel the same.

The part of him that worried was wondering if she would find his "release" disgusting. He was sure that Arya probably was aware about the mechanic of men release but still what if she found it repulsing? He had heard such stories before. He even heard a very amusing one from Robb, about one time when they were four and ten and Robb had "played" with a serving girl.

She looked straight toward his manhood and smirked. Then she started to stroke her fingers lightly against his tip. _What is she thinking with that smirk on her face? Does Arya even question things like size? Is he strange? When Ros saw him naked she didn't comment anything… but what if he really is inadequate?_

All thoughts were soon forgotten though when he saw Arya licking her lips with a vague expression in her eyes._ What in the Seven Hells does that expression mean?_ Her hand grasped his length again and started to move slowly. He felt his body shiver and fought to contain a groan. He mentally kicked himself. _Enough with the embarrassing noises! You are a man grown for god's sake!_

Nonetheless he almost yelped when her body slipped next to his and she started to kiss his neck. Seeing his reaction she increased the pace of her hand making him even harder as she found the wetness of his tip and spread it along his length.

She was trailing kisses down his torso and her other hand was making traces on his leg sometimes brushing against his balls. Jon thought that nothing could feel better in the world and that was when he felt her mouth wrap around him.

This time he groaned loudly. _That was freaking amazing._ He weakly tried to call her, tell her that this was a bad (amazing) idea. He felt her tongue make a circle on his tip finding the sensible skin there and he had to contain the urge to release in her mouth. He gasped and tried to pull her but his treacherous body only let him caress a lock of her hair.

He warned her. He warned her as it got harder to contain that building sensation. He told her to stop more than once but she just didn't listen to him. Jon could honestly say that he really tried to make her stop. Once he got (kind of) used with the indescribable good sensation that her mouth made him feel, he tried all that. She has vehemently ignored his requests though.

He fought a battle against his body. He fought the increasing wave of pleasure that kept building inside him. But no matter how much he fought he knew it was a lost battle. Jon knew that he wanted to feel that. He knew that a part of him was overwhelmed with the pleasure and that another part of him was immensely satisfied to have her pleasing him.

Sooner than he expected he lost the battle. His release came hard, his body spasm as his seed filled her mouth. He groaned and shivered when she passed her tongue across his tip as his orgasm rocket through him.

When he came back to his senses he was greeted by the sight of Arya staring at him. She was smirking like a cat that just swallowed a canary. He thought about telling her to spill it out and was caught unguarded when he saw that she had swallowed his seed. He gulped. Was he supposed to find that kind of exciting? He was a sick bastard indeed.

- Did you like it? – She asked in such a weak voice that one would believe she was just some shy little girl. That she would never do this kind of perverted things.

Did he like it? By the gods he loved it! It was amazing. He felt relaxed, he felt loved and deeply connect with her. He felt like he was truly hers.

- Yes. – He said feeling his cheeks go warm. Was he really blushing? He tried to elaborate but he gulped feeling the warm spread through his neck. – But you shouldn't have… - he did a motion indicating her mouth, unable to continue his sentence. She shouldn't have… what in the gods name was that anyway? She shouldn't have kissed him there. She shouldn't have swallowed his seed either. What she just did must be something really perverted as he never heard anything of the sorts before.

By the gods! He thinks as horror dawn over him. Could she get with child doing that? Was that possible? His mind was filled with images of women with round bellies. That's probably possible isn't it? Should he get her some moon tea? Or something like that? Where would he find moon tea? How he could get moon tea without everybody finding out? _You just had to be careless with her hadn't you? _

He saw Arya smiling wildly when she caught sight of his blush. He was sure she was feeling very pleased with herself.

- You taste funny, you know? – She said biting her lower lip. His heart raced against his chest. _What that supposed to mean?_ - Funny, but not bad. – She completed.

It was his turn to smirk. Does that mean she was going to do that again? He surely would like that. _No, you won't!_ The honored part of him responded. _You know this must be wrong in many levels. _

For the first time in his life Jon cast the thought aside. For the first time in his life he answered that part of him with a "who cares?" He may be some sick extremely perverted son of a bitch but he had Arya, even if it were for a short time. He loved her and he wanted to express and feel that love. Maybe he should take her advice and just enjoy the time they still have.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Arya awoke wrapped in Jon's arms. She almost wasn't able to contain a giggle as she observed his face. Jon was smiling! He was smiling in his sleep! She smiled to herself. That certainly meant she had done something right. Well, she mused maybe it wasn't so bad to listen Jeyne and Theon speaking huh? Sometimes they could give some good ideas.

She changed her position trying to snuggle her hand on his face. She felt something pressing her on her leg. Her mind was flooded with images from the previous night and she blushed. Arya could say she was a tad impressed with Jon. After hearing Jeyne speaking she had a very wrong idea of how a man looked and felt like.

Jeyne had said that men were hairy and kind of disgusting but Jon was not disgusting. She let her hands go down in his abdomen letting her fingers tangle in his lower curls. Not disgusting at all, she thought. Much for the contrary when she touched him he was warm, firm and his skin was very soft almost like velvet. It was very much like the rest of him if she really thought about it. That part of him was also long but kind of thick and white as his namesake except for his tip that was a deep shade of pink. Arya wet her lips maybe she should do that again? She thought remembering how she trailed her tongue over the deep veins of his length and how he tasted. It didn't taste as anything she ever tasted but it was a taste that screamed Jon all the way.

She also discovered that if Jon was small as Ros kept saying she didn't really wanted to find out what big was. For her he was big enough she thought remembering how her hand almost didn't circle him and how he filled her mouth. She wondered if he would fit her if he ever took her.

She thought about his fingers moving inside her and shivered feeling a tingle start to pulse between her thighs. She let her hand grasp his hardness and feel that tingle flare in anticipation. Once he woke her like that with his mouth on her breast and his hand between her tights. _It was a very good morning indeed. _She recalled that morning with a smirk. Today she was going to reattribute.

Her hand grasped around him and she saw him move unconsciously his legs spreading farther. She pulls him complete out and take a moment to analyze him now in the cool morning light. _He is kind of fascinating isn't he?_ She muses tracing the lines of his veins with her fingers before pulling down that peace of skin that cover his tip. She looks at his tip as she uncovers it marveling all over again with his round, shining and mouthwatering pink tip.

Arya tries to settle in moving her hand like she did the previous day, she likes how his body moves when she move her hand. Soon she gives up to the temptation of tasting him again, bending she takes him on her mouth again. _Oh Jon you like that don't you? _She thinks observing his body stir with a shiver. She thought he would awake but he remained peacefully sleeping the only difference is that now his lips are lightly parted. She settles in slow movements stopping sometimes to flicker her tongue over his soft tip. She can hear his breath coming ticker and wonder if he is dreaming when a soft moan scape his lips.

This time his seed comes faster. She noticed how his eyes open just moments before his body arches in release. She saw how he only had time to register what was happening and whispered her name before her mouth was filled. She saw him panting and was glad with herself again. She looks at his bare chest wondering how one can be so appealing.

Jon is so controlled and solemn always fearful to disappoint their family. He is always trying his best, always trying to be accepted. She knows other people don't make it easy for him. She remembers how his smile slowly becomes a rare sight as he grew up. She liked to awake the mischievous side of him the one he hid almost all the time.

Mostly she loved how doing that made him lose control. She loved how he still fought for control and how she made it skip from his grip. She likes how beautiful he is now with his flushed cheeks against the white of his skin. _See Jon? This is how it feels when you do that with your hands. _She thinks and flushes remembering what he did yesterday with his fingers. She wants to feel that again, to feel him inside of her.

Sooner than she expected he pulled her roughly, wrapping her in a warm tight embrace as his mouth find her in a hungrily. She opens her lips in a surprised gasp and his tongue thrust into her mouth. Kissing her fiercely he settles them in the same position they were the night before with him between her legs. She moans when she feel him press his hips over her. _Gods be dammed! Did he have to be so freaking good? _She felt his hands running down her body making her moan and arches in his hands.

She could feel his warm breath trail the curve of her neck kissing a trail down towards her breasts. His fingers were tracing soft circles on her legs. One of his hands caught hers and kept they firmly placed above her head as he sucked her nipples until she started to pant. His other hand moved up brushing the curls on her lower belly.

The heat that keeps pooling in her gut makes her pulse in eagerness but he doesn't touch her. Instead he moves his mouth up to her neck again. His voice sound low and hoarse when he mutters another warning in her ear and she feels his hands on her inner thighs. He was touching her lightly almost teasingly brushing softly her tender skin.

Her mind is so filled by the sensations that she can't respond instead she seeks his mouth and kiss him hard. _I don't need to be warned. _She wanted to say that she didn't need to be warned. She wanted to say that she would give herself freely if that meant he would have her. Sometimes she would wonder if he knew just how much she wanted him, she wondered if he really thinks she would denied him if he tried.

Then he bends down placing a trail of kisses that go down her breasts and belly. He keeps going down until she can feel the soft caress of his respiration. He moves her legs making her open herself to him and she gasps when she feels his breath drift across her center. She cried loudly when she feels his tongue lick and probe her tentatively.

_Gods! _She couldn't think as her mind was suddenly clouded by sensations. The pleasure that engulf her is so big it's almost paralyzing. Her mind felt empty all she could ever think were a trail of lost words like amazing, gods, fuck and Jon. She could actually feel herself pulsing from want. _Fuck! _

At first he was slow, he licked her up and down and she arched moaning at almost every movement of his tongue. She feels his tongue flicker back and forth mimicking the movement of his fingers. His hands moved to steady her body caressing her stomach and breasts. _When it became so hard to breath? _She wondered vaguely. After sometime he used his hands to pry her apart, allowing his tongue to thrust deeper into her. She hears a voice and is actually surprised to find out that it's her own voice she is hearing.

He moves his mouth up, flicking his tongue over that nub that always makes her body spasm in a wave of pleasure. He keeps passing his tongue there and she can feel herself getting close. She is panting, she can feel her release building slowly but powerful. Then he sucks the nub directly and it's like pleasure shooting through her stronger than ever.

Arya doesn't fight the sensation that takes over her. She couldn't hear a thing because her heart was pounding loudly against her chest. He sucks the now hyper tender nub and the pleasure crashes over her. Hard. She cries his name as she shakes and spasm against his mouth.

She had thought she was used to release by now but that was…she searched for the word… intense? She didn't know if she could really move her legs or any part of her body for that matter. All her body felt groggy and standing seems like something really complicated. She can feel his body next to her and when she finally turns towards him she is surprised by a very devious glint in his eye.

- I like your taste. – He says with a smirk. His hands doing circled patterns on her stomach. – Did you like it? - If she was not already flushed all over her cheeks would be crimson by now. She hated to appear shy but Jon managed to leave her that way. She could still feel the phantom sensation of his tongue in her.

She bits her lips. _That was like the best thing in the world? _Then he continued. - Didn't you like it? I thought you did with the noises and all that.

_Oh he wanted to play coy? Is that? _– Nah I didn't like that much – she said sarcastic. – No big deal you know?

- Oh can I test that? It surely sounded differently.

She than lands a soft kiss on his lips. – How it feels for you? - Asking him to admit first so she could just follow. He smiled and she knew he was more curious than her – It felt like pure bliss, you know? Like all the best sensations exploded in me. I loved, ok? You can brag about it now.

His mouth cracked in the most dazzling smile. _The prettiest man in the world indeed. _She thought. – I think you described pretty well, it's like something really good exploded inside you.

She felt his hand lay flat on her stomach as his eyes filled with wonder. He smirked, blinked and the look was gone. – So you think we should enjoy ourselves more?

His eyes were so intense she felt herself blushing. _Why does he keeps doing that? Seven hells! _Sometimes he looked so appealing that her breath would catch on her throat. _And gods be dammed, but that happened a lot. _

- Yes. – She answers coyly.

- So come here, my lady. – He said and smirked when her eyes automatically rolled. _My lady. Humph. The nerve of him! – _Let me kiss you more. – He continue pulling her to straddle him and locking their mouths again.

She felt him hard and hot beneath his half-closed laces and she moaned when she unintentionally rubbed the tender and swelled flesh of her core. She knows he can feel her wetness spread over him. He moans his hips bulking towards her and her body shivers in return. _Gods! Playing sick was the best idea she ever had. _

For two more days she played the sick girl and Old Nan tasked Jon of keeping an eye on her. So for two days they lived almost blissfully unaware of any obligations and worries. Pretending that had nobody else in the world but them. They would kiss and cuddle each other as much as they could and when their feeling stirred to much they would seek each other for release. Hands and mouths mingling in a mess of feeling and sensations.

At moments like that they could almost forget who they were. She wouldn't be Arya from House Stark and Jon wouldn't be Jon Snow. They would only be Arya and Jon, they couldn't be husband and wife nor lovers but they could pretend. Neither of them said anything, but she knew they were pretending to be another couple one that could stay together.

At nights the heat between them seemed to get stronger. They would get lost on kisses and touches and she would marvel at how much he made her feel like she was burning. As if she was burning so hot that she could melt. If anything his touches got bolder between their kisses.

She responded his touches with the same boldness, the same eagerness enjoying the hurried pace of his heart beating and the noises he fought to let out. Had something truly fascinating and making him lose control, in making his seed spill in her hands or her mouth. It filled her with some unknown confidence and she felt powerful. As much as she liked to feel the rush of pleasure he made her feel she was extremely pleased to be able to make him feel the same.

Also he did her feel that way almost all the time. It's almost like he had a need to make her get lost in his arms. Not that she didn't like it. She liked a lot. But still he always put her in first place. Gods he never let her really touch him until now. _Well she was certainly touching him now, wasn't she? _

Arya smirked to herself remembering how she felt his hot manhood against her core. Even thinking about it made her heart beat faster. Gods she desired him. She would get lost in this trail of thoughts almost every night. Would it be that bad if he "took her"? Was it really painful like she heard?

She remembered the talk she had with mother and Sansa about how highborn ladies would sometimes "damage" their maidenheads with little things like riding horses. Her mother words as she explained that highborn ladies wouldn't bleed that much. Arya didn't know how much should they bleed but…

Would it make such a difference then? If Jon took her couldn't she pretend that she lost it elsewhere? She contained a shrug she knew Jon would never agree to take her like his woman. For him it was a question of rights and wrongs and honour and most of all was a question of him not feeling worthy.

Sometimes she would sense that in him. It was something she knew he always felt weighted down by others, by himself. When he was with her she would recognize the glint in his eyes. The one that said he thought himself as unworthy of her love. That was the times she wanted to curse aloud. If she was a peasant girl she could love him like she wanted and he would love her back fully.

Later after the heat between them decreased they would snuggle each other to sleep like nothing had change between them. Like they were more kids than man and woman, more like brother and sister than lovers. She passed her hand over his lips in a pantomime of that time not so long ago when she did it to wonder if she should ask him to kiss her. She wished she could still have him every night. She knew these days would end but it was nice to pretend they would last forever.

The only time they had to remember who they were was when some serving girl brought them food or Old Nan came to check on Arya. She didn't want to go back to be herself but she knew that she couldn't keep this pretence forever.

By the time the hunt party was coming back to Winterfell she had already "recovered". Before she had to go out to greet everyone, Jon pressed her against her bedroom door. He kissed her deeply for some time and she knew he was thinking on how long it would take until they could kiss again. He muttered "I love you" and she responded with a simple "So do I" before leaving the room and the fantasy behind.

At the feast that night Arya was bored beyond death. After almost three days practically living in her room with Jon the outside world seemed strangely boring. So it wasn't really her fault she felt a bit mischievous when she saw a plate full of peppers she just had to sneak some of them over Sansa lemon cakes. Seeing Sansa eyes fill with tears as she gulfed tons of water and still tried to act like a lady was always priceless. Seeing that Jeyne too had eaten the cakes and her face was as pink as her dress was only a bonus.

Mother tried to scold her but the King stopped her. By saying how much she was a vivid child and how much she remembered her aunt. Nobody talked about her aunt so she looked curiously to her father blank face. She was almost smiling thankful to the King, but he had the strangest look in his eyes. It felt odd and out of place. She couldn't quite place where she saw that look before but still gave her the creeps.

Whatever it was that kept the King ogling her all night she was sure of one thing. She didn't like. She didn't like it at all. Later after some jugs of wine he asked her to sit by him and her father. Was only her or her father expression was more stern than usual?

The king spoke to her about King's Landing and how she should go with them. She was not really paying any attention in whatever he was saying. All she did was angle her body away from him every time he leaned near. Her mind would wonder towards Jon as it often did. _Jon. _And her eyes searched for him in the hall.

He was seated very far, still trying his best not to displease her mother. She almost sighted. Her mother was so difficult sometimes. That's when she catches on his expression. She frowns as the expression in his face is one she rarely saw. His lips were set in a thin line and he was frowning. She would say he was extremely angry with something. But what?

Her eyes immediately moved towards Theon as he was usually the motive why Jon would be annoyed with something. But Theon is only drinking wine and talking with Robb. Also Jon eyes are not on him. She tries to trace the line that his eyes are looking and is kind of confused.

_Is she looking at me? What the hell? _Then she notices is not quite her, he is looking at. She turns her head and sees the King seated next to her. When she faces the King he smiles towards her again, the same smile that give her the creeps. _What in the Seven Hells does that expression mean? _She suddenly feels the urge to get up and leave.

That was when her father got up to make the announcements. Her father speaks for a moment and then the King gets up. As he speaks se gets so surprised that for a moment she forgot to be creep out by the man. He announces that Lord Eddard will go with him to King's Landing as his new Hand.

He also announced that Sansa would be betrothed to Prince Joffrey. She could hear her sister giggling loudly, but her attention drifts away. The King was eyeing her again. Almost as if he was considering if he should say something else. Something like announce that she would have to go to King's Landing too.

After the announcements that thank the Gods didn't include her, she heard the King speaking with her father again. She understands by their conversation that he is really trying to convice her father to let her accompany them to the court.

As the King tried to speak with her again she remembers her father worlds about not being ready to leave. She has a plan now. As he speaks with her she tries to act more like a child than a young lady (even if she wasn't a proper lady anyway). After a while her approach seemed to work. The King goes back to talk with her father and in no time was flirting with the serving girls.

She tried to find Jon again but he was already gone. She yawned. It was a long day. Nonetheless the hardest part would be now sleep came hard when Jon was not there. She smirked as she laid down at her bed. She wanted to go back to their fantasy world. The world where she could be Jon's. Where she could touch and kiss him goodnight and hug him to sleep. For the millionth time she wondered why it had to be so unfair. Why couldn't they have more time? How she could steal them time?

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Jon felt almost free of worries. The previous days he felt at peace. He felt pleased, he felt loved. More than he thought he deserved. He stayed hours thinking about what happened these previous days. Maybe he really should send all concerns to Hells and beyond. Maybe he could try to steal some time with Arya and be happy while he still can.

He passed his hand on his hair for the thousandth time. He felt restless. He wanted to send the king and his court for the Seven Hells and just go back to that room. He went to the feast just to fulfill people expectation. He was expected to attend even if he wouldn't sit with his brothers.

He was seated as far as he could from the main table but he could still see when Arya put on peppers on Sansa plate. She would always be his little prankster wouldn't she? He saw how Lady Catelyn was ready to give Arya the lecture of her life when the King intervened. That didn't bother him really. Anything was a valid if it meant that Arya could stay away from needling lessons the better.

At first he couldn't quite place what it was. Every time he looked at the King the feeling would increase. He notices that Lord Eddard had a frown very much his own when Arya seated next to him and the King.

Then it downed on him. _That disgusting son of a bitch_was eyeing Arya. He was eyeing her as if he was considering a woman to his bed. Internally he groaned tightening his jaw. He felt his inside run hot with anger as his exterior grew cold. He could see Arya moving her body away from the king as he talked with her. He wanted to go up to the main table and demand the King to stay away from her.

She was barely more than a child! For god's sake! The thought made him smirk _she was woman enough for him. More than enough._He gulped, considering if other men were seeing what he and apparently that dammed son of a bitch of a King saw too. If men were finally seeing that Arya was a woman, a beautiful woman.

He felt revolt rise in his chest. _She was his woman! Why people couldn't see that?!_He groaned trying to dismiss some of his possessive alcohol induced thoughts. Arya was not his. She couldn't be his. He felt the same pain and worry and anger rise in him again. It was bad enough to think of her with some stupid southern lord but the king?

He wondered if this is some kind of punishment some sick joke from the gods. Wasn't it enough to love his sister does she has to be desired by the king himself? What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't exactly kill the king, could he?

He looks at the king again and notices that the king have this tinkle in his eye that it's almost the same tinkle that Theon have when he is eying Ros. _That fucking pervert!_He should go up there and shove a sword in his bowels! He tried to argue with himself, he tried to find that honorable part of him that knew what was right and what was wrong. That part of him that knew that what he felt for Arya was not a proper thing, that he was the wrong one. _You Jon Snow should not think about killing the King! Nor make him suffer. He is the King remember?!_

All his arguments are suddenly forgotten when he sees how the king head actually bends to look at Arya leaving form. _How anyone let this fucking pervert be King?_His jaw grew even tighter. He should go up there and demand to that imbecile to stop looking at her like that!

He saw the King get up to make the announcements and for some time he was actually surprised enough with the news to calm himself a bit. He still saw how the King eye lingered on Arya. Almost as if he was considering adding her to the announcements. Jon felt worry grow in him again the difference it was now he was not worried about what he felt. He wouldn't let this King take Arya. He knew he struggled with the idea of anyone taking Arya anywhere that was apart from him but somehow that was different.

This King he felt like some kind of threat to him. Jon thought about the way he kept looking at Arya like he is just waiting for the best moment to… to what? He frowned he knew that answer didn't he? The King was looking at Arya like he was waiting for the best moment to do all the things that he wanted to do with her. What he should do if than? If the King tried to convince her to leave for King's Landing? Steal her away? He chuckled at his own thoughts. That would certainly be a very good idea, wouldn't it? Knowing this king he would just start a war. He chuckled yet again, _as if bastards could start wars._He would most likely start a hunt.

He couldn't do that. Even if a part of his mind whispered he would. For Arya he would run away he would leave all behind. For her he would kill Kings and fight wars. _Hells._He could as well fight white walkers, grumpkins and snarls for nothing would take her against her will if he was there to avoid them. He eyed the king again feeling a cold kind of anger grip his veins. He would even fight this King, even if that meant losing his head.

After the feast he went back to his room but he couldn't sleep. He wanted Arya in his arms. He was tired of feeling this way. He was tired of living in the fear of losing her for every dammed boy that crossed her sight. He was tired of the fear of losing her for marriage. He was tired of the fear of her leaving him for whatever reason.

He wanted her to be his and the end. He thought about southern lords and peasants boys that would soon be lusting after her, like he shamefully did like that dammed King did. Why couldn't she be his? Why all this had to be so unfair? He wanted her so much. He wanted her for himself. He wanted her to be his wife so he could rip the hands of any man that tried to touch her. He cursed after the thought pass through his mind. _Why can't you let this kind of dooming thoughts buried inside you? You stupid son of a bitch! _He sarcastically remembered Theon words about him being a blushing maid and internally gave himself a slap.

_If there was any doubt now you know how fucking doomed you really are he thought to himself._He vaguely wondered how much Arya would laugh if she could hear his thoughts. He almost laughs then. These thoughts keep creeping the edges of his mind because of those things she keep doing. How he could not think of that after practically living with her? After he have wondered in the deeps of his mind if that is how is like to be a recently married couple. It was what people say isn't it? That young couples don't leave their room.

He grew so restless that he went to take a walk. He would have walked right through Bran room but he heard Meister Luwin speaking.

- It's only dreams, Bran.

- But I keep dreaming that all the time. – He heard Bran answering. – It's always the same thing. I dream that I'm Summer and I see Ghost and Nymeria and they are running so I run after them then start to snow and I lose their trace.

- There are only dreams, Bran. You must be worried about your father and sister going to the court. Did you know that people say that the King who knelt talked a lot about his dreams too? – He heard as Meister entered a story.

Jon thought about entering the room and tells the story himself wondering if telling his brother a story would make he feel calmer too. He didn't enter the room thought because it was Meister Luwin telling and his version would probably be more accurate and better than his.

He went to their tree without thinking about it. As he seated his previous thoughts came back with full force. Lately it would appear that the only thing he ever thought about was Arya as if his world circled over her. _And it don't?_Some part of him whispered. He wished someone else understand. He wished he could share his problems with Robb so they could laugh about how silly he is. But he couldn't because his "girl's problems" involved Arya and sharing anything with anyone was too risky.

Jon sighted, couldn't he just feel light and free of worries as he felt the previous days? He already decided he would fully appreciate the time he had with Arya. Even if that time was short and was already running out. Why did that King had to go and make everything more complicated? Would he feel like that when she marries someone? Because he knew now that he wouldn't be able to stand it.

What he should do then? He looked at Ghost almost waiting for the direwolf to give him the right answer. _Maybe I should just run and leave all behind._He knew thought that he couldn't start a new life not like that. _Not without Arya._

He suddenly remembers the story about the Dragon Prince and how he steeled his aunt from home like he was some evil character in a song. Was his obsession so big that he couldn't stand to pass another day without the woman he desired? Was he not too much alike to that Prince? _Yeah but you love Arya. He didn't love your aunt._

But if he thought he loved her too? The question took him by surprise. He thought about all the stories he heard about the selfishness of Rhaegar Targaryen of how he steeled Lyanna Stark from the arms of her beloved betrothed, and wondered. For the first time he feels sympathetic towards the Dragon Prince. Maybe the love the Prince felt was like his, maddening. The types of love that can rip you apart because the pain grows stronger when you are not with the one you love. What if he felt that his heart and world would shatter if he didn't have her?

What if he did all that if he thought it was the only way? If that was true that only difference between him and the Dragon Prince was that the latter was reckless. Rhaegar put his thoughts in action. He ripped his kingdom and caused a war.

The worst was that he could understand even that. Would he not rip a kingdom apart if that meant having her for himself? If that meant he would be able to marry her? But he was not the Dragon Prince. Hell he was not a Prince! If things were different if he was a Prince like the Dragon Prince maybe he would do the same. Steal Arya away so she could be his princess. He chuckled again _you are a blushing maid Jon Snow._He was nothing more than a bastard and bastards couldn't raise wars to take their woman. All they can do is dream.

**N/A: **Hey guys! Sorry for the delay in posting But really this month was crazy. My word lost half of the chapter and I had to write all again. Then I got sick for two weeks. This chapter is not revised but I will soon have a beta xD So please bare with my awfull mistakes a tad longer =p I hope you guys enjoy and please review. Oh, thank you all for reviewing, following and adding in your favs. You guys are awesome! xD


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

She was running. Fast. The forest was no more than a blur of green and brown. She could see the sun rising. She heard water and went there, sniffing it before drinking from it. She turned her head even though she knew who it was from the smell.

Red eyes met hers and she could see him walking towards her. He had brought something with him, meat by the smell. He dropped a few steps away from the river and bent to drink beside her. He stopped drinking and nuzzled her neck.

It was time to turn back. They ate and turned to go back. Smelling the air they tried to pin-point the location of their pink friends. She stared his red eyes challenging him to run faster than her. They started to run. That was when Arya woke up.

Winterfell was full of noises. The King was finally leaving and the Ward of the North his wife and their older daughter would leave alongside him. People were packing trying not to let anything essential behind.

Arya felt strangely detached from all the movement that was happening around her. It's not like she wasn't sad. Her father and her mother were leaving and sometimes she would feel like a small child that didn't want her parents to go away. She would miss them. She would miss Sansa too, even if her sister is more than happy to be leaving.

These past few days were full with good byes. Her mother tried to convince her to go. But she couldn't leave. If the notion of her family leaving was sad the prospect of leaving Jon was plainly unbearable. So she just couldn't leave. Not now and probably not ever.

It's not like she didn't wonder if refusing her mother didn't made her a bad daughter. It's not like she didn't felt guilty to be disappointing her mother. It's not like she wasn't going to miss them. It's not like she didn't cry.

The problem was that even though she felt sad and even though she sometimes felt guilty, deep inside she was glad to be staying behind. To be staying with Jon. To be buying them some time.

As far as Jon was concerned she didn't have doubts or regrets if the choice involved him. She would choose him no matter what. She got up and tried to dress herself more properly. It isn't so bad to please your own mother sometimes, is it?

Lady Catelyn asked her to meet her by her chambers the night before. So Arya made her way to her mother chambers wondering what was left to say between the two of them that was not good byes.

She approached her mother chambers and just before she knocked on the door she heard her father voice.

- I know you think that, Cat. But really is for the best. Can you really imagine her in King's Landing?

- I know, Ned. But she is my baby. I don't think is wise to let her stay either. The boys will not know how to raise her properly.

- Cat, calm down. I told you before we can find her a Septa.

- I don't know Ned. She should grow with a Lady in the house. It is the proper way.

- If you wish we can ask her to visit Lady Mormont…

- Not the Mormonts, Ned! She will never be a proper Lady then! Maybe… I don't know Lady Dustin could receive her?

- Believe me, Cat that is unwise.

- Oh Ned can't she just go with us?

Arya took a long breath. Couldn't her mother pass a day without thinking of sending her somewhere? She knocked and her mother told her to come in. As soon as she came in her father excused himself pausing briefly to kiss her forehead and her mother before leaving.

Lady Catelyn looked at her and exhales. – Sit here and let me comb your hair properly. - Arya – her mother started – do you remember the Tully words?

She looked at her mother before answering of course she knew that. – "Family, Duty, Honor" – she recited. Wondering what her mother was thinking on.

- When I was younger than you, I was already responsible for running Riverrrun for your grandfather. – Arya felt her mother hands stopping for a moment but then she continued – When I was your age, I was already betrothed and knew what was expected of me. You should learn with your sister, and do your lessons properly, learn your duties, learn the Faith. The fact that you never wished to learn any of these things worries me deeply.

Arya almost sighed too. She has being listening to that since she was a little child. How her mother was young when her grandmother died and her mother had to take her place at running Riverrun. How she should prioritize her duties and learn with her sister. How she would always be the little kid, the one that never learned.

- I wished your father wasn't so stubborn. I wanted for you to go with us. – Her mother had finished combing her hair and she could feel her hands resting at her shoulders. - I'm worried about leaving you here. I think you will never learn anything staying here with the boys.

- Mother… it's not like that… - she started.

- I know I can't convince neither you nor your father, but please Arya. Promise me you will try to behave while the new Septa do not arrive.

She tried to say something, even if it was nothing more than an empty promise. Arya have learned the hard way that she would probably never change, and that there are something about ourselves that we need only to accept. Things like the fact she would always be better with bows and arrows than with gossiping. That she would be better at riding horses than setting up a table. Or that she would never reach her mother expectations.

- Please, Arya. As soon as I settle in King's Landing I will find a new septa for you. Try do learn with her. Do try this time, don't skip your classes and please stop doing everything with the boys! You have to learn those things, Arya! Remember that someday you will be married and then you will wish to know these things for yourself and for your future husband.

- But mother… - she tried to say but was interrupted

- Don't even start, young lady! You know that one day you will marry! It's a woman duty. You are a Lord's daughter and its pass the time for you to act accordingly. I won't be here to monitor you but I do wish you take your lessons seriously for now on. – Her mother paused for a brief second before continuing. - You will meet us in King's Landing before your sister wedding and I do hope you take this time to think about your family. I love you Arya, but you have to remember your responsibilities.

Arya wanted to argue but argue to what ends? She knew she couldn't change something even if she didn't agree with her mother point of view.

- I'll try, mother. – She tried answering

Lady Catelyn seated next to her. – Try to learn with the Tully words. Never forget that to be honored you have to honor your family and your duties first.

- Yes mother. – She answered simply. It was no use to argue. Not now that half of her family was leaving. If that meant letting her mother happy enough to diminish her worries than she would at least try.

- You will be the only Stark woman in Winterfell, which means you will have to assist your brother if he has to organize some event. That also means that you will keep doing your duties! It's that clear?

- Yes mother.

- Also I will be leaving some of Sansa dresses for you along with the new ones. So try to dress properly to. No more of those hideous boys clothes. And I will be asking your brother and Meister Luwin about your behavior, so don't think you will be free to do whatever you like because I won't be here.

She almost groaned. She hated wearing dresses. It was really hard to move around inside all those fabrics. And she was sure that Robb the Traitor would call on her if she disobeyed.

They heard a knock and a bunch of server girls crawled inside the room with arms full of colored dresses. Oh God's! She thought that can't be good.

- Now let me help you with combining these dresses. – Lady Catelyn stated.

This time Arya couldn't contain the groan that escaped her.

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Jon lay at his bed, waiting. He knew he shouldn't be doing that, but he promised Arya and he promised himself that he would enjoy the time they had. So there he was waiting to the castle to fall asleep so he could sneak out and pass another night with her in his arms.

The wind was too strong outside and he has to concentrate hard to hear anything. He tried to see if Robb was already sleeping but the night was way too dark for him to see anything more than the outline of his brother.

He tried to contain himself but looking at Robb made his mouth wrinkle with worry and guilt. Neither of them has ever brought the subject about that day. It was like it has never happened. Jon would pretend not to notice how Robb's eyes would avert his whenever he was at his bed. Robb on the other hand would pretend not to see how depressed he got after Arya was prohibited to sleep with him.

After sometime the feeling waivered and both of them went back to normal. Or almost like normal, since he couldn't tell Robb where he was going whenever he disappeared. The problem obviously was that being in love with your sister is a fucking big sin to carry around but being in love with your sister and act with her like you were her lover is a fucking big secret to keep. So whenever Robb asked him where he was going he would answer with some lame excuse that he just knew Robb wasn't buying it.

He shrugged to himself. It's not like he could turn to Robb and Theon (specially Theon) and tell them how he was almost… Almost what, for Gods sake? He didn't even knew what kind of relationship he had with Arya! They certainly were doing things that married couples didn't do! They were… Complicate. How one can explain that?

Besides the fact that he couldn't tell who the woman was. He couldn't even describe her properly if they asked. He knew Theon and even Robb would not be satisfied with statements like "she is gorgeous" or "she makes me half mad". He knew that Theon would ask about the size of her breasts and if he had fucked her already and Robb would ask how she kissed and how far he went with this woman and if she is making him forget to be a righteous man.

Could he dare say that her breasts felt perfect against his palms? Or that they haven't fucked but did every other thing that could be done (and more). How he could answer Robb and say she made him the happiest man in the world and suffer like the worst beggar at the same time? How could he describe her without letting them know he was in love with Arya? Seven Hells, he scolded himself. He could only hope that Robb forgave his secrecy.

Deciding to drop this line of thought he tried to hear again. The kitchen servants must be going to their beds now as the bigger noises were slowly quieting. He felt his body ache in anticipation, soon he would be able to meet Arya. Ever since her fake disease they didn't had a single night together. Hells should he miss her that much? He really must be the worst combination of green boys and blushing maids.

As the minutes passed by the sounds outside faded. He tried to the soft exhales that would indicate that his brother was asleep. Unfortunately he couldn't distinguish any sound inside the room that wasn't the sound of the wind roaming outside.

Jon contained himself. Getting anxious now was no good. He tried to picture the path he always did to Arya's room. He tried to see every corner he had to hide into to pass the night guards. He tried to remember every guard on duty so he would know what to answer if they saw him. He pictures the windows, the halls and all the doors he passed by.

Another half an hour passed with Jon lost in his thoughts before he decided it was safe to go. He carefully got up from his bed, trying hard not to make a sound. Ghost head immediately turned towards him when his feet touched the floor. He smiled patting his wolf on the head, surely Ghost knew exactly what and where he was going. His bed did a small crack when he got up and he internally cursed himself waiting perfectly still to see if the noise awoken Robb.

He felt Ghost brush past him and sit near the door, clearly waiting for him to open it. After almost two full minutes he moved towards the door. As always he looked back before opening the door and as always he met Grey Wind's eyes staring him and Ghost. Not seeing anything different he opened the door letting a strand of light pass into the room.

- I really hope that she is worthy of this trouble. – The voice got him unguarded, letting him stoned at his feet.

He saw a light flicker on his back and Robb's voice sounded again – You know whoever this woman is. I do hope she is worthy all the trouble you have to meet her.

Jon fought to find in himself the courage to turn. Eventually he did trying to keep expression plain.

- Is she worthy of all these escaping and lying, Jon? Tell me that at least. – Robb continued.

Jon really considered leaving without answering. But that was Robb, his brother, his best friend. He couldn't leave knowing that he was worried enough to question him.

- She is. – He said finally. Seeing how Robb contained a smile right there. Seven hells! Why you never learned to lie? He questioned himself.

- You know for a second there I feared I got it wrong and the problem was not a girl. Almost gave me a heart attack, you snickering son of a bitch. – Robb continued and he couldn't help but chuckle after his brother playful tone. – So you are going to tell me who she is or we are going to keep this a secret?

Jon looked at his brother with a tight expression. Guilt was once again flooding over him. He knew that the thing he had with Arya was a dangerous game to play. He observed his brother smile weaken as the time passed without any answer from him.

- I guess this is a no, huh? – Robb said and Jon knew he was trying hard to remain cheerful. Giving up he decided to be honest… at least as far as he could.

- I'm sorry Robb – Jon said – It's just too hard to explain you know? Too complicated. I can't really talk about it.

- But you love her? – Robb asked.

- Yes – he answered immediately.

- That sure anh? Why you don't ask her hand openly than? – Robb reasoned – Father would back you up.

- I'm not a Stark, Robb. It wouldn't be that easy anyway. - Jon said deciding that it was best to play along with Robb before his brother decided to do something really proper like finding out who exactly the "woman" really was.

- Of course you are! You are my brother! – Said Robb – It's just a name Jon. With father by your side you can at least try.

Jon mentally gulped. Being treated like a Stark would make things even more difficult. It seemed that his mind was working over capacity. He knew he couldn't let Robb take this issue to father. Maybe he could say half trues then? If he could he would have kicked himself. Half trues were a very dangerous thing to play with. But then what choice did he have?

- She is noble born, Robb. I know that you mean the best but I'm still a bastard. – Jon said and part of him couldn't deny that he truly worried about that.

- Not any bastard, but a bastard of house Stark. This must count for something, if she is the daughter of a minor lord. Many lords would like the opportunity to get this close to our family, and Father could give you a position and a holdfast. – Robb contradicted.

- I really doubt that it work Robb. Also father can be against it. – Jon said trying to deny his brother argument.

- You want to go to The Wall, Jon. I'm sure father would consider you having another option. –Robb reasoned – But these nightly adventures would have to stop. – He said reaching for something under his bed. – Can your lady friend excuse yourself for today? I would like to talk to my brother. – Robb said as he offered Jon a glass. – I did steal some beer from the kitchens earlier.

Jon almost laughs. – Trying to get me drunk brother?

- Well you are some hard fellow to talk to. I guessed that beer could lose your tongue and maybe convince you to abandon this mysterious lady for a day. – Robb said with one flask on his hand ready to purr it into Jon cup.

Jon smiled – I guess she would not mind terrible if I don't show up today. I do have an overly attached brother to talk.

Robb drank a large gulp of beer then smiled – I will let you know that you are not the only one having secrets dates. I'm also visiting a lady friend.

Jon almost spilled his beer out. Robb was secretly meeting with someone? By the gods, when that happened? – You are? What?

- I'm meeting with lady friend just like you. – Robb said very coolly - and I guess you can say that it's also complicated.

- And why is that, brother? – Jon asked truly interested. Robb was just behind Sansa on behaving properly.

- She doesn't want to marry me. – Robb said obviously frustrated. - I know that being an honorable man is a hard thing. The old gods know that I'm trying to be honorable, like Father would like me to be, but she simply won't have me anyway even when I know she cares about me as much as I care about her.

- Why she wouldn't marry you? – Jon asked. Robb woman must be one of a kind. A lot of girls would want to marry his brother. Robb was the heir of Winterfell after all.

His brother sighed - She's older and far from being a blushing maiden. We drank a bit too much the last time she came to Winterfell. You were nowhere to be found – he said with a pointed look – and she kept me company until I found myself in her arms. The next morning I told her I was in love and asked for her hand. She laugh and told me I was just a green lovely boy who knew nothing about love.

- Are you really in love with her?

- Yes. But she doesn't want me. She says she is not a lady to just sit in a castle and order people around.

- What if she end up with a bastard in her belly? - Jon asked trying not to show his disappointment. Robb should know better.

- She says it won't be a bastard that it will be her child and heir no matter what and no one will ever say otherwise. - Robb's glass was empty - Damn those Mormot Woman. The lot of them.

Jon almost spilled his beer out. Caught between being amazed by his brother and being plainly shocked – You were with a Mormont?

- Hah! Not any Mormont. It was Dacey, Dacey Mormont, the fucking heir of Bear Island, and this is why she won't have me. Why should her give up her freedom and her own rights as an heir to become the Lady of Winterfell? She would be my wife and mother of my children, nothing more. She would have to obey me, and be subservient, always do what is expected of her and acting as a fine proper lady when she would rather use boiled leather, mail, and ride as a man to battle. She doesn't want to be a lady, even if she is in love with a lord.

- So she is in love with you? – Jon asked refilling their cups. His brother love life was really confusing.

- I think, or hope so. She keeps coming, she never tried to get me out of her bed. - Robb said in a painful way - I'm a fool for that woman. I would do anything to have her. That sounds as ridiculously romantic as it seems?

- Worst. - Jon said - You will soon star to compose ballads and write poetry. Father will be extremely disappointed. He wanted warrior sons, not poet ones.

- That heartless woman. She uses me as she wishes. She is as cold as ice while reject my proposals and then she shows a tender a careful behavior. She is so passionate and so rational at the same time. I wish I could resist her. I wish I could make her feel as I feel right now. Hopelessly in love.

- A toast to that brother. These women will leave us both mad. – Jon said rising his cup.

- You don't get it Jon! The things she does with me! It's like I'm begging for her love. She calls me and I go like a fool. And for some time everything it's wonderful until she shove me away again.

- I totally understand the feeling of being hopeless before a woman. The urge to satisfy every wish she have even at the cost of my honor and my very soul. I wish I could have her completely, I wish I could say to the world that she is the one I love without fear, but it cannot be. She is like the moon, powerful, bright and out of my reach. At least she says she loves me back and for that I'm a happy man.

Robb gave him such an odd look that even his drunken mind registered. Was only when he saw his brother expression that he notice what he said. He knew that it was too late to take it back his feelings were laid bare for his brother to see.

- Runaway with her than. Better ask forgiveness than permission. Marry her, have your children far away from here. If her family rebels we can handle. I'll never tell a word about it to anyone. When I'm Lord of Winterfell I shall forgive you and your lady wife, give you a position and lands. At least one of us should be happy.

- Did having a woman made you lose in the head, Robb? She is highborn her family would hunt us. I will lose my head and she would lose her honor. – He rebated. – And she would probably not accept it.

- If they hunt you then you run faster! You told me you love her and told you the same. Why not try, Jon? Her honor will be already lost if someone finds out. Do what you want for a change. Ask her hand, make her your wife and run.

- I can't, Robb. There are too many things that could go wrong. There is nowhere to go! No place would be safe. We would be running forever. – He tried to argue.

- Not in Westeros. Go to the Free Cities. Build a life there and when I became Lord you can comeback with her and your children. – Robb said.

- You are drunk, Robb. You are not making sense. – Jon sighted.

- No. I would do that if the choice was mine to make. If I was ever too choose between titles and running of with Dacey I would probably run.

Jon chuckled. What if their father could see them now? Two of his sons lost because of woman.

- Your Lady Mother would have a fit if you did that. – Jon laugh

Robb laugh too – Yeah. She probably would. Father would stay a week in the Godswood unreachable.

A while later sleep was getting the best out of them. It was already late night and the beers both of them drank were not helping with their ability to stay awake. Soon both of them gave up on drinking and went towards their respective beds.

For a moment before sleep took him, Jon entertained the idea of following Robb suggestion. It would be nice, his sleepy mind thought, to have a house, to have Arya, to have a family. Then sleep engulfed him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Arya was shaken by septa Mordane telling her to dress herself. "Properly this time, young lady." She didn't wanted to wake up she was tired and she wanted to sleep more. It was very late when she finally gave up on waiting for Jon. She wasn't mad or anything, sometimes he just wasn't able to come visit her. She understood. Nonetheless it still was a disappointment not to see him.

She could hear Sansa screaming at the serving ladies about some missing scarf and Arya just knew that her sister must be impossible today. From the bright side Sansa was probably winning an earful for not finishing packing on time. It was a particularly cold morning even for Winterfell standards so since she was to be forced into a dress she decided to choose one that was at least warm.

Septa Mordane had already called her five times by the time she finished dressing. She was "recruited" to help Sansa finish her packing. Arya could certainly say that she have never walked on a room so messy, there were dresses and fabrics hanging from everywhere and at least seven trunks half full with everything someone could possibly imagine.

Sansa was in the middle of the room holding fabric enough for at least tree dresses talking very loudly with some of the servants. Seven Hells! She thought. Sometimes Sansa really looked like mother especially when they are mad with something.

- Arya! – Sansa almost screamed when she saw her – Please tell me you know where my ruby necklace is! Do you remember the one with the gold chain that Joffrey gave me?

Arya actually pitied Sansa this time. She knew her sister well enough to know that she was freaking out. Losing a present from her husband to be was equal to fail in Sansa's world. Arya hardly remembered the said necklace. Well she did remembered Sansa showing her some awfully big gold necklace that she guessed was what her sister was looking for.

Her sister eyes were begging. Oh better answer her already. – I'm sorry, Sansa. But I haven't seeing it. – And this time she was truly sorry.

- Is not one of your pranks then? – Sansa said siting down looking really disappointed.

Arya almost sighed realizing just how important this was to Sansa. –We will find it. It must be somewhere around here.

- I looked everywhere! – She almost sobbed – Joffrey will think I didn't care for his gift at all.

Arya stared at her sister but before she could answer she noted that all women in the room had stopped to see they talk. So she addressed to them – What you people think you are doing? Go look for the necklace!

As far as Arya could tell, Sansa was miserable. She spotted Jeyne and realized that she was also not going to help since she could see tears prickling at her eyes. Gods, she thought, if they stayed like that the necklace would never be found. Sighing she decided to help.

Looking around she saw that the serves were almost literally dropping the pieces of clothes everywhere. Were people forgetting that they were supposed to be packing and not unpacking? She rolled her eyes.

She tried to get everyone attention by calling them. When she finally got their attention she started giving directions. – First of all we have to get rid of this mess so everyone start folding all these dresses and fabrics and make two piles one of the things that will stay and the other for the things that will go. – She paused for a moment – Sansa they have to ask you. So organize this with them.

Sansa didn't cheer up but she probably noticed the state of the room so she got up and started to fold her belongings with the other girls. Okay, that was easy, she thought, it would probably not be enough to get rid of her mother's wrath when she find out but at least it will be more organized. And maybe the necklace will show up when all these things were semi-organized.

Even though Arya hated to pack, really why fold all into neat little squares when it would be all messed up when you arrived?

By the time they finished folding things into piles it was already mid-morning. Arya was hungry since none of them went ate breakfast but she knew they had to work fast since the King wanted to go after lunch time. The necklace was still nowhere to be found so Arya decided to do the thoughtful thing when you supposedly lost something. She divided everyone in the room. Half of the girls would place the piles that they made into the waiting trunks while the other half would take everything out of the loaded trunks to check if the necklace was there.

When it was almost lunch time they heard Lady Catelyn voice approaching. Arya saw when her mother face changed from worried to utter disbelief.

- What on earth is this! – Her mother exclaimed looking straight to Sansa. – Sansa! I cannot believe you haven't finished packing yet! The King wants to leave after lunch! Why is this place in such a mess?

Her sister almost sobbed trying to explain in rushed phrases about the missing necklace. Her mother face went pale when she heard about the missing jewel then her face set on a very stern look that Arya knew way too much. Sansa was so going to get the scolding of her life. Fortunately by her mother look that conversation wouldn't happen now.

- The King and Queen were asking for you Sansa. – Lady Catelyn said actually sounding scary.

Sansa looked around almost like a lost puppy. Arya noted that her sister didn't know what to do. Arya also knew that Sansa had to go, when the King or the Queen request your company you just had to go. It was like a rule or something. That's why she said her next words.

- Go on, Sansa. You already sorted the things you want to take. I will stay here helping them to find your necklace.

- What if you don't find it, hm young lady? – Her mother said, but it was a question obviously meant to Sansa since her mother not even looked at her direction.

Sansa looked down with her cheeks turning bright red, it would have being funny if Arya didn't knew that Sansa was probably getting more desperate by the minute. She only saw this expression one time on her sister face and that was when she had freaked out after she got her first moon blood. That time Sansa was convinced she would die, she remembered. That was why her mother started to have more serious talks with them.

Her mother huffed and guided Sansa out of the room casting a look back at the room.

- Do try to find it, Arya. – Her mother said before leaving.

After her mother left Arya continued the search. It took ages to empty every trunk and each time they didn't find anything. It was only on the last trunk that they found the damned necklace.

Arya took the necklace in her hand determined to take it to Sansa as soon as possible. She looked at the bright jewel on her hands thinking it was really an awfully big and strange thing to give to a lady. Didn't girls such as Sansa prefer more delicate jewelry? She wondered.

After closing the last lid of the last trunk Arya dismissed the serving girls and went to find Sansa. As she walked, she tried hard not to wonder what in the seven hells her sister would do with the grand total of eighteen full trunks. Really it must be enough clothes for a lifetime there.

She could already smell the food when she was suddenly pushed into a dark corner. She didn't even blink already used to the being pushed and pushing Jon around.

- Why took you so long? – Jon asked nuzzling her neck

- Sansa had an epic crisis – She answered.

- Not mad with me then? – He said placing a kiss on her neck. She smiled.

- Maybe. You did make me wait for you like a fool.

- I swear to the Old Gods I had a good reason. – Jon said still playing with her neck.

- Well… I assume you had the time to think on a good excuse.

- Arya…

Before Jon could say anything she continued, trying to imitate her mother voice – But I will hear you plea your case, my lord. – She looked up and met his smile – After lunch that is. I'm starving.

- If my lady wishes. As a humble servant, I will be glad to attend when my lady call.

She laughs looking at his face grimace despite his serious tone. She planted a kiss on his lips before letting him go.

- I will meet you later then. – Jon said, still holding her hand.

- I do hope you don't forget to show up this time. – She said lightly. He smiled pulled her back and gave her a very soft kiss.

- I won't. Promise.

Before going back to her previous path, Arya looked around. It was one of their rule, always look where you are going. Along with the "always make sure you are not spotted walking late of night" and "always make sure you are not being followed".

As much as Arya didn't like to follow rules, even she has to admit that some rules have to be respected.

She smelled the food as she entered the hall, Gods she was hungry. Before seating down to eat though she looked at the main table to find Sansa.

Her sister was there seated beside Mother and the Queen. She walked straight towards the main table, trying to ignore her sister desperate look. As she approached she pulled out the damned necklace and addressed her sister.

- Sansa, I got word that you lost a necklace today, I found this enormous thing under your bed and was wondering if this was it. – Arya said with the most serious expression that she could do. – Do take care with your things sister; we don't want you to lose yourself at the capital.

Her sister was almost beaming from joy. She didn't even look at her angrily. Geez the things Sansa considered important…

Mother didn't smile but her expression was somewhat softer. Well she could consider herself a good little sister for now. She thought briefly.

Arya was just finishing lunch when the King entered the hall questioning why the Queen wasn't ready to go. She could spot her father receiving a short nod from her mother; clearly signalizing that was all ready to go.

After the King's announcement everyone seemed to rush. Arya wasn't even able to finish her long waited lunch. That it's what you win to be a good little sister, she thought bitterly.

She was task to supervision the loading of the trunks. To make sure everything was loaded where it was supposed to. So she perched herself next to the carriages and made a check mark after she counted every trunk. Thankfully all trunks were rightly marked with their house sigil so it was really ease to make sure she was counting the right trunks.

After a while Bran came to sit next to her.

- I keep thinking you are leaving to. – Bran said.

Arya frown towards her little brother. – Afraid of missing your best fight partner?

- Obviously not. You just won last time because I let you win. – Bran said irritated.

- Aham – Arya answered – Don't need to worry Bran. I'll still be here to beat your ass off.

Her brother stood quiet for a while.

- I still feel like you are leaving. Even though I know you are not going with Mother and Father.

- If you know I'm not going. Why would you feel like that? – She asked.

- I don't know I keep dreaming with you in the Godswood covered in snow. – Bran said slowly – and then you are by the sea with snow falling at your feet.

- You are being weird, Bran. You shouldn't worry yourself with dreams.

- I know but it makes me feel strange. I dream with Jon gone too.

- Really and what you dream about Jon? – She asked. Curious about anything related to Jon.

- Everything is on fire and he is walking through it; almost like he is aiming to walk towards the flames. Then the flames engulf him and he disappears. It's scary, I keep screaming for him not to enter the flames.

- Oh Bran – Arya said patting her little brother head – I think you are just having some nasty nightmares. You shouldn't worry about that.

Bran remained silent for a while and then he said – But one day you will leave.

She smiled – You will leave too. Or you don't want to be a knight anymore?

- I'll be a knight – he answered defensive – I'm just saying you will leave too.

She sighted – Well, when I do leave I promise to say goodbye ok?

Bran smiled but didn't answer. They stayed there counting the trunks until the last one was loaded.

Then they walked to the gates, where everyone was gathering. The goodbyes passed in a blur. The King said he hoped she would visit them in Winterfell. The Queen nodded her head. The Imp joked and petted her head before going to The Wall.

Then her father, mother and Sansa came and hugged her. Told her to take care, and not burn Winterfell down in their absence… Okay maybe not that, but her mother did said to help Robb and not to let the castle turn on a chaos zone.

After that they all mounted their horses and turned to walk after the King and his carriages that were ahead. She didn't cry. She wouldn't cry.

When they were too far to see Robb, told them to enter. As she re-entered the castle she wonder what to do now. For the first time in years, she was free of the afternoon lessons with Septa Mordane.

She wanted to practice her bowl since she didn't touch on in for quite some time. But she had to talk with Jon too and Bran would most likely want to come along with them.

Well she could always go to a walk. She spotted Jon and gave him a pointed look before leaving the hall walking towards the Godswood.

- I heard you called this humble servant at your service – Jon said.

- Oh look, this time he decided to show up. I thought I would have to punish you for leave me waiting.

- My Lady do forgive this servant, I came as fast as I could.

She looked at his face and laugh again. He always did such a great imitation of the lords who visited Father.

- Oh stop you. Will you tell me already what happened yesterday? – She said giving up of their prank.

- Okay. – He said slowly and she knew he was thinking on how to approach the matter. Jon, The Serious he should be called, she thought briefly.- Robb saw me leaving yesterday.

That startled her. That couldn't happen! Nobody should see them.

- Did Robb found out? – She asked frantically. If Robb found out they were both doomed. He would surely tell Father and she would never see Jon again. But then, if he had them discovered he wouldn't wait this long to tell. So he found something but what? – What happen?

- He knew I was meeting someone mostly. I guess you can say he ambushed me. He waited until I was leaving to get up and say that he knew I was meeting someone.

- Not me? He didn't found out about me? – She asked

- No. – Jon said with a sight – He didn't. But he knows I'm meeting a woman. He asked me about it.

- He asked you about it? – Arya asked still dazzled. That was very close. Too close to be safe.

- Yeah. He asked me who it was and I obviously didn't say anything. – Jon continued – But he knew too much, Arya. He knew I went out almost every night to meet someone. If he had me followed one day… I don't want to even think about it.

- I know – she said. Trying to control her breathing – We have to be more careful then. Knowing Robb, he must have interrogated you.

- He did. And he didn't. He asked me about you obviously, and I thought it was for the best to give him a bit of information. Remember when he thought that were a ghost on the woods and went there alone to find out if there was really a ghost?

- Yeah. He found a couple of servants, wasn't it? – Arya said

- Well he found a couple of servants stealing from the kitchens, but half of the castle found Robb later threatening the servants. – Jon said. – I thought it was for the best to give him some information, you know, before he went to find it out alone.

- Probably for the best. I guess. Did he say anything else?

- You will not believe it if I tell you. – Jon said.

- What?

- Our dear more than proper brother is having an affair. – Jon said teasing her.

- Oh I so doubt that. Robb having an affair? You are teasing me. – She answered.

- I swear to the Old Gods themselves. He told me.

She couldn't believe it. Jon must be teasing her. There was no way on earth that Robb was having an affair.

- Who is the brave woman? – She asked still jokingly

- Oh you got it right. It is a brave woman.

- So… Who?

- It's Dacey Mormont.

- No. Dacey? With Robb? – By the Gods, when did that happened?

- Yes. He even said he would run away with her if he could. – Jon said.

- Are you really serious? – She asked.

- Yes. I swear it. He talked about her nonstop. Even though I think he was trying to make me say something more.

- By the Gods. Robb and Dacey, I wouldn't imagine it. – Arya couldn't really believe it, who would imagine Robb would sneak inside girls rooms?

They stood quiet for a while.

- We still need to be more careful. – She said almost like an afterthought

- I thought we were being careful. I guess we need to pay even more attention to where we go. – Jon said almost in a whisper.

- Will it always be like this? Hide is a very tiring thing to do. – She stated.

- It's not like we have many choices. – Jon said seriously and then after a while he laughs.

- What? – She asked confused

- Nothing. I just remember something Robb said.

- Well, will you keep me curious? What it was?

- We were drunk and he said I should marry you and run. Like running would be easier.

Arya stood quiet. She would admit that sometimes she thought of that. Running could be easier, couldn't it? If nobody found them, there is. Jon continued – He even traced a route and promised to pardon me when he was Lord of Winterfell, the fool.

- He said that? – She asked wondering if Robb could truly forgive them if they ran.

- He did. He said he would do that if he could. – Jon said a bit slowly – Off course it's impossible to do that but it was fun to hear him say it.

Arya picked Jon's hand interlacing their fingers; she placed her head on his shoulder and wondered how it would be to follow Robb's idea. How it would be if they really run? Things like marriages and families and by the gods children crossed her mind then. She looked up to Jon's face and she knew they were both wondering about the same things.

**N/A: I'm so so so immensely sorry for taking so long to update this. Really I was finishing college and life was a mess and believe me or not this chapter was so freaking hard to write. On the other side I'm so happy to finish this chapter. I do hope you all find it worthy. I wanted to show a bit more of the other characters and their relationship with Jon and Arya, so I hope that Robb and Bran were both in character. Also this is the point where the story will be different from the books so be warned. **

**I'm so glad of how many people are reading this. Thank you all for the favorites, follows and reviews it made me keep on writing. I'll be going to pass one month all by myself at London so please be patient with the for the next chapter (even if I do hope to finish it sooner rather than later). Kisses **


	7. Chapter 7

It was an unusual sunny day in Winterfell. Lately life had been easier. Robb changed rooms and with half of the castle in Kings Landing it was very easy to Jon to meet Arya. Actually if he was been true with himself these last few days were being the best they ever had.

Everything seemed to be easy and fun. They didn't need to be that cautious all the time and that alone was frankly amazing. So what if the things between them heat up so much that is too close from what they should be avoiding? He shouldn't worry himself over nothing. Wasn't that the deal?

He should just follow his wishes while they still have time. Surely that can't be completely wrong? He was a young lad and he did have needs… Ok, so maybe he shouldn't have needs with his little sister… but… crap. He thought for the tenth time that morning, his hand passing through his hair. Why he had to always be conflicted over that? It has been months since they started to… you know… do that. It should get easier to figure things out not worse!

All the pointless thinking is exactly why he goes to distract himself with other things. Little not harmful things… like going to the crypts with Arya… and almost fucking her senseless… his mind not gracefully remembered him.

He shook his head again that is not a topic to be discussed now he told himself. Focusing on his task he settles himself once again in preparing the surprise he had made for Arya. It was a sunny day after all and everybody knows that you should enjoy sunny days. Having fun… doing things… things like organizing a surprise picnic with the woman you are crazy about but can't really have your way with it? Maybe?

Besides her name day was coming so he guessed he could already start doing nice things for her. He already bought her present, and he was sure she would like it. No, he knew she would love it. He designed it especially for her. He smiled imaging Arya's face when he gave it to her.

He sealed the horses trying to command himself not to think on the prisoners that tried to attack Bran last week nor the even more dangerous thoughts that involved kissing Arya until some part of her turned purple?

Why in the Sevens he was not able to just enjoy this little moments without concern? His mind promptly answer him that it was because he was been a green irresponsible boy, obviously. Well mind, he almost screamed to his own head, I want to be happy for a while can't you just shut the fuck up? Please.

It was a sunny day after all and he wanted was to go out to a _romantic _picnic. As the thought popped into his mind he groaned out loud. That was the exact reason why he couldn't think this sort of things. He was so girlish sometimes. What would people think if they could hear his thoughts? It was just a picnic, not romantic just a normal picnic to enjoy the sunny day. Maybe later they could swim?

He went to the kitchen to take the food he ordered the servants to prepare and went on to call Arya. Eventually he found her practicing her fence with Bran's old sword. He smiled as he saw her. She was such an unusual girl.

She agreed immediately as he had predicted. She went to change clothes as he went to place the food and see if he was not forgetting anything. He loved her riding clothes they always clung somewhere making her curves more pronounce and well he could admit that he did enjoyed to stare a bit?

They rode until they reached a clearing a bit farther from Winterfell then they should. But it was always better to be safe than sorry and in matters concerning Arya that must be doubled check.

Soon they were settled above towels. Talking, joking maybe flirting he couldn't really tell. It was their pace all their actions would speak about the two of them. If he was honest there was no way of denying that they were a couple. That much was clear to anyone to see.

She seated between his legs as they talked about the old tales. It was also one of their things. To wonder how it would be to visit the Free Cities, how they look like? What would they do there? How is to live there? Is it hot all the time, or does it snow?

Now he often thought that this little fantasy of them were a prelude, that somewhat that showed the potential of their relationship. Now they would be in chapter one, if only… if only all those problems (the ones he promised not to think about) didn't interfere.

She was caressing his arms. Maybe he should become a maester so he could do a study of her damned hands. Those same hands that were, in this precise moment, trying to find her way to the inside of his shirt. Cold fingers trickling his skin. He half smiled pulling her lips to meet his. The burning need that they felt for each other never really settle inside of them.

Kiss her always made his blood boil. It was like having some sort of disease that made you starve for her. The sun was playing at her skin making light spots in her arms. He traced her face with his finger, lingering on her lips before kissing her again.

He pulled her to his lap, she giggled. He smiled loving the sound. He curls his hands around her perfectly shaped hips, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his palms as he pulls her close. His own hands were now crawling to the inside of her shirt, his cold fingers causing goosebumps on her heated flesh.

She shivered against his fingers letting out a tiny groan, but doesn't try to get away from his hands. – Your fingers are cold, Jon. – She complains softly. Inwardly he is smiling, that evil part of him enjoying every reaction that comes out of Arya. He wonders if she can feel his smile against the curve of her shoulder. She turns her head to him, but he wants to play.

He wants to see how much she can take it. He wants to know if he could make her beg for him. The nature of his thoughts made him pause for a moment before vanishing. He slowly traces his tongue along the curve of her neck, living a love bite against the cotton edge of her tee.

Knowledge and reason seem something so far away when he is doing that. He doesn't even feel guilty any longer. As much as he wants to play with her need, he also knows that is also a game with himself. It's easier to control his needs, until a certain point that is. It's easier, but the urge is still there and sometimes that urge goes too deep. He can almost feel, almost like there were claws in his skin, draining his control. Euphemism to the sensation of her finger nails scratching his neck? Who cared? The fact was that somewhere there were claws making his resolutions a fruitless effort.

The dark side of him wanted it all. Almost as if Arya was some sort of prophesized land that he wished to live in, a land of endless spring full of wonders. It wanted to go there, beyond the borders of reason to the vast ocean of things that could happen once he crossed. Nonetheless he could still control it. No crossing borders for Jon Snow. But he would indulge, obviously. He would play the game. A game with lust. A game that consisted in doing little undetectable crosses through the border. Maybe he should redefine it as a gamble. A gamble that he was winning. For now, his thoughts blazed in some empty corner of his brain, it won't last you know. Soon you will end up losing, and again (in a newly found recurring manner) he brushes the thought off. Who cares? Is Arya, and deep down he knows he wants all of her.

He slides his hands and suddenly they are getting bathed on the heat of her tummy and he can feel her muscles pull and contract as he keep caressing her. He smiled again, his intuition telling him that she knew exactly what he was doing and that soon she would be playing with him. Gambling. His palm was inching further up to her chest, gently placed against the slow pulse of her heart thumps inside her chest, thumps that were getting faster against her ribcage.

That's when he can feel her hands again. Arya was an impatience girl. She wouldn't wait for him to set a pace on his game. She would attack first, wearing his defenses out. Players both of them, perfecting their games technique in every play. Who could ever say he didn't pay attention to tactics lessons? He could almost hear maister Luwin voice trying to get his and Robb attention, "you never know when these things come in handy". Well maister, I will give you that. It surely does come in handy in the oddest places.

Her sharp nails reach his hands through her tee, gripping him, pressing his palm against her left breast. He can feel her chest heaving as his cold, icily finger graze her nipple. He immediately nibbles another hungry love bite just below her ear, counter attack, keep your defenses up Jon Snow, his mind warns.

She arches her back slightly letting out a soft whimper, he can see she eyeing him with a wicked smile on her lips. Oh no, she wolf, today is my day to win. You are winning way too much already. He wiggles his fingers beneath her grip another moan (this one louder than the last) escapes her throat as he twiddles her nipple gently between his fingers.

Jon paused a moment looking straight into her eyes, challenging. Arya is the champion of long challenging stares. Is hard to keep up with her, but he is making an effort. He can see that her eyes are heavy and wanton and with a darker shade than usual.

He arches one of his brows up. She half smile to him, silently saying "come now, I'm not even amused". It's funny how they almost don't need words between them, she makes a little pout and he is suddenly fascinated of how her mouth are almost bright red, with the same colour as sickly sweet cherries.

He can't help the smirk that comes into his lips as he leans down to press his forehead against her, he let one of his hands slide to place itself on the small of her back. At the same time his tongue races along the edge of her mouth as he leans down to tease her cherry red lips. He waits, and then pulls out when her tongue darts out to meet and wrap itself around his. Her eyes open with an indignant glint on them, he chuckles making her shiver again with the point of his fingers on her back.

- Kiss me, damn you. – She mutters and he smirks, a day for victory indeed.

His smirk must have annoyed her, as she growls and thrust her hips up against him. Is his time to let a moan escape, surprise attacks are really difficult to fight, lacking preparations for a proper defense. Her hands are suddenly clamped around the back of his head and the curve of his neck is suddenly in her possession. Claiming territories, already? He thinks briefly. Before any proper responses on his part, her mouth is already clashing with his, lips sucking and teeth nipping and tongues… well is the any other verb to describe it besides fucking?

Jon could say it all happens in a heartbeat, they would be kissing and then all bets are up. Their hands were groping and their fingers were enticing and teasing and wanting and mostly begging and needing more flesh.

She pulls her hips against him in a fast motion, rubbing his length. He shivers embracing the sin he keeps committing. You do a sin in the Gods face just to find out that they don't care. It makes you wonder if they even heard your prayers. If you need to pray at all. He pulls her closer increasing the friction.

_Is humanly good to be touched too, to be alone with someone at the secret feast… You looked at each other and felt just how old the contract was, the warm-faced commitment to the adventure, the stepping together out of the light into the rewarding darkness.*_

She twists her body with his. He finds out in that moment that he doesn't care anymore. She is all there is, all that he can care. All that he is able to care. Truth being that he can be sent in a one way journey to the seven hells. She is the only mystery he wants to solve, she is also his torment and the major source of his troubles, and he is lost. So deeply lost and drown inside the abyss of her.

The sin is too good to be left behind. Acceptance feels warm inside his chest. If you are to be doomed you can just let go and be full forced deep to your neck doomed. The gods don't care, and neither should you. So what if he is letting himself to be swallowed into the shameful indecency that is the sole definition of they?

Jon can honestly say he does not know how it happens, he just take notice of it when he feels the cold air hitting the heated skin of his length. His breeches are open and he is exposed to her already. Damned be self-control, teasing and failing when it's more necessary.

She doesn't wrap her hand around him like usually. Instead she is tracing her fingers up his spine, and chest and probably every reachable piece of skin that she can find. She is mapping him with her hands that were the only explanation. She lets him hanging to provoke him, making him crave for her when she is tracing fingers through his scars and pressing softly in his training bruises. She smirks when she presses a sore spot as she observes his soft cry.

He knows, is pay back. She keeps whipping his body with her palms and sucking and biting his neck, as if she was saying, "see I can brand you too", and he can feel the love bite braking into his skin.

He won't yield though. Two can play this game and today is a lovely day to make a score. He tries to gain control again, fighting the sensation of her nails along the lumps of his spine and the feel of her warm mouth in the curve of his neck. He makes his fingers obey his orders and open the cords of her riding pants, yanking the piece out of her. Leaving her legs bare to the touch of the cold wind. The sun finding more places to play tricks on her pale skin.

He dips his fingers around the curve of her tights and then reaching that place that is the center of her heat he begins to stroke and tease and prod and press and tease again, until her thighs feel damp between his palm. He cups her and feels her nails ripping his skin. A moment later and he clasps his mouth on hers as he thrust his finger inside her.

She gasps and his smirk is instantaneous, he uses her distraction to fully open the laces of her shirt. He has to admit the he loves this sight. Arya, directly above him, lashes fluttering, mouth half open in a gasp, tongue darting out to wet her lips and cheeks tainted pink. She is beautiful, and she is his. He is so caught up on Arya that he doesn't even register his sane part whispering "for now".

He reaches deep, moving inside and out as tries to rhythm his touch with the rut of her hips. He teases her, already feeling the taste of victory. Blessed be the gods, at least once he was not the first one to get lost. Not losing the rhythm of the pulls and pushes of his hand, he leans in letting his breath tickle her breast for a moment, then still observing her he darts his tongue out and lick it, then circle it and when she moans his name, he suck it fully pulling it to the inside of his mouth.

He flicks his wrist and marvel himself with the sight of Arya bringing a hand to her mouth to smother her cries. He knows she is close, so he flicker his wrist again. He is deeply pleased when his flicker is received with a low, long moan. He let her ride him, as her body trembles and shiver and clamp around him. She rests her head on his shoulder, breathing hard, and he wonders if that's in fact a sin than the gods shouldn't have made it so damn good.

After catching her breath she stares at him, and he is surprise to find such a fiendish look on her face. Oh, is not game over yet? He half smile, loving and dreading whatever is being conceived in her devilish mind.

- Tell me, dear brother of mine, do you trust me? – Arya says and her voice, is not the voice of the girl that grew up with him. She sound devious and teasing and just like the most decided woman he ever met sound like.

He can't really answer her as she is grasping his length in her tantalizing hands. He should mourn his manhood right now, how can he loose his will every time she talks to him like that?

She is flushed and that only makes her be more beautiful to his eyes. - I heard something really interesting outside Robb privates' chambers. Did you know, brother dear, that he has the most interesting conversations with Theon?

That's how he ends up losing their game. Is the way her voice cracks his will. Is the way she only address him as brother to increase the forbidden. Is wrong, yes, but is oh so right and so fucking good to do the wrong thing, isn't?

Her legs are opening slowly, getting closer and closer to his manhood. He doesn't know what she is thinking, and he probably should tell her to stop. But to what end? Be wrong, Jon Snow. The men are not here to judge and the gods are looking the other way. Welcome the darkness.

She touches her center to his length and he can faintly mutter her name warningly. – What in the seven hells are you thinking, little sister? – He says with his voice faltering. He can feel his length being bathed with the silver slithers of her center. Is hard to maintain attention.

Just a game. – She says, and demons couldn't be more tantalizing. – don't you wanna try?

Arya, you know… - he forces against his will to say. But she interrupts him.

- I know… It's not that, Jon. Stop with the yada yada and trust me. – She says and starts to rub her bare self in his also bare length.

The sensation can only be compared with the feeling of her mouth engulfing him. It's unfair how he wants nothing more than to just say fuck the consequences and enter inside her heat. But he can't, and reason is not totally muted yet. That's why they gamble, that's why they raise the bets. Is delicious and dangerous and bloody divine.

She moves her hips and passes her palm in his face caressing his chin and trailing a path into his mouth. He knows, and even though reason speaks loud, he knows that the only thing he wishes is to dissolve himself in her. He was one of those man apparently, one of those who would give it all he could, just to have this wish fulfilled.

Arya bucks her hips and he doesn't know each of them is winning. It would appear as both of them are trembling and flushing and shivering at the same time. She really does feel like silk, wet and hot and soft silk.

His head is empty it feels like he is paralyzed. He can't move, he can't change anything. All he can do is concentrate on the bucks of Arya's hips. She said it was a game he says its torture. He is getting closer to his own edge, covered by the wet silvery honey that goes out of her legs.

He is groaning but it doesn't actually register. He wants to be engulfed by her heat. Her damp center. He just… needs that. If he could have that, the days could pass and winter could come because he would be ready.

He is almost beyond the point of no return, when for some trick of the gods her rhythm falters, it's enough to make him groan and silence reason once and for good. Jon is done for as he twists her body with his, setting her above the deep blue infinite of the picnic towel.

He is moved by instinct and it feels like his mind registers his surroundings in images locked motionless in time. He sees Arya on her back splashed almost naked in front of him. Is the image that freezes her hair in wide angles above her head mixing with the blue beneath her, the black of her shirt covering only parts of her arms, legs incredibly white that burns through his mind. He doesn't see his hands moving. All he knows it that he can't ignore his needs any longer. He can't ignore the ache that keeps rising inside his chest and focusing on his groin.

He is not sure if he smirked when he notice that she haven't close her legs, he craws towards her body, caressing her leg with his hand, securing one of her legs over a his hip. He trembles in anticipation, Arya face is calm as if she always knew this day would came.

Everything is a blur. He is hooking himself onto her flesh, placing his manhood at her center. Gods, some part of him says now is the time to strike me down. Now is the time to kill me and make me pay for my sins. Nothing besides the sound of the forest answers, and amazingly he thinks that if the gods don't really minds then they could be right after all. No man can judge him if the gods themselves don't judge him first.

If you asked how he would wanted to do this. Jon would answer some really proper response, like he would try to be calm, he wouldn't press, he would ask first, he would be tender and sweet. None of this happened in reality, reality is far too cruel to let you do whatever you want with it. It likes to crush your expectations.

He entered her in a swift motion, amazed of how easy it was to slide in the wetness of her. Then there was heat, her heat, everywhere, engulfing him. Wet, hot, and oh gods so absurdly tight. Now he knew why people would just shrug when trying to describe this, there are no words, no one invented words for this.

He looks at Arya face, remembering the said pain all the woman talk about. But her eyes are steady on his. She is the one who moves first even though he can see the ghost of discomfort in her eyes. But her move awakes him, he hadn't realize he was holding his breath until she moved. Her movement was slow and sweet and he is glad she is not hurt.

He opens his mouth to ask for forgiveness, but Arya looks at him in such a way. How could he be so fooled? She wanted this as well. Maybe more than him, her face is pink-flushed but it only serves to illuminate her cheeks when she smiles to him. He changes his mind there and then, deciding that he would never again ask sorry for this. Never more ask for forgiveness for his love.

Instead of asking for forgiveness he kisses her deeply, marveling at the feeling of him nestled inside of her. They are one now. He understand the words before every wedding, two humans that dissolve themselves in the warmth of their bodies, her hearts and shapes and their beings converging to become one. Are not his and Arya heartbeat anymore, is one single fast beat hovering inside their chests.

He takes in the implications, too late to express how entirely unacceptable this act is. He tries to move and the explicit forbidden act was so good, he couldn't help it but to do it again. Her scent is making him light headed. She lifts her head and brushes her lips over his. He pants hard, fighting against the overwhelming of her heat, fighting to keep his sanity over the soft bucks that his hips keep doing even against his will.

Desire was hot and demanding and was flooding back into his awareness. He couldn't ignore it. Is way too much. He tries closing his eyes for a moment as he moves inside of her but even with his eyes closed he feels the warmth around him. He find out this is a no escaping route, once you started it you have to open your way until the end.

There is a spot of her heat that is thicker inside of her, it seems to pulsate and tremble every time he goes near it. It doesn't take long until, he aches to touch there. His body is way quicker than his mind. As his mind is registering the moans that keep flooding out of Arya, his body is already increasing their rhythm.

He can hear the sound of their bodies clashing against each other, is a steady sound, following the rhythm that he inadvertedly impose to both of them. He is caught unguarded when her thighs clasp around his waist, her ankles setting in the curve of his spine. The position favored him, and he can feel that he can bury himself deeper inside her. He observes her face, her eyes are almost close and she is trying to gasp for air. He knows the feel, is the one he is feeling right now, as if air is too thick to be breathed. The sight makes him moan, looking at Arya is such a dangerous thing. He should have learned that already.

He tries to concentrate in the muscles of his stomach moving as he pushes himself inside her, and then out, and then in again. It's useless, Arya is moaning his name. Can you see that gods? Can you hear it? She is moaning my name. Like a mantra or a prayer and is suddenly really hard to keep moving. And is the best sound in the world.

Her eyes flicker open, and he knows what she is saying without even opening her mouth. She is close and he silences her with his mouth again, or maybe he is silencing himself. It's better to choke with her kisses and tongue, is better to drown in that sea of sights and groans. He reaches that heated spot, finally and there is a twizzling spark in the depths of her. He groans going out of her, but when he enters again the same spark is there waiting for them. So he keeps repeating it feeling that indiscernible sensation pool deep into his stomach. He enters her, over and over again, sometimes harder and sometimes softer, and some other times faster, but all the times deep, deep, and deeper. He wants the abyss of her, the eternal spring, and the endless darkness.

He can feel her response and she spreads herself for him and pushes him further and further inside her. Arya's hands are gripping the flesh of his back, her nails digging into him as she lifted her hips off the ground to meet his.

He can feel sweat in his brow, he doesn't bother to clean it out. Arya's squeals are getting louder and he can't help liking it. It's wicked he doesn't want her to stop. Than her cries are even louder and blatant, her nails are in his scalp and he knows she is coming shamefully around him. She is so unbelievable tight, more than she was before and oh so hot.

The clasp of her around him is suddenly too much and he doesn't notice that he let out a curse when with a solid thrust he spills himself inside of her. Their eyes meet then and he can see clearly how her eyes are darker and have a wild and satisfied glint in them. For a moment he is scared that he looks terrified and completely lost and drowned.

But she smiled and suddenly both of them are laughing uncontrollably, her head is against his chest, and he knows that they are both hysterical with what they did, wondering why haven't they done it before?

Is the cold wind that makes them half close their clothes again, and they are doing it really slowly, limps not really ready to move after their wicked doings. Is the surprise, that bumps into his body and make him alert again.

- Lovely performance. Now we would like you to pass all the valuables, or the girl dies.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxx

Seven fucking hells! Is this like for real? Is the first thing that Arya thinks when her mind catches up with the scene that unfolds in front of her.

As soon as they heard the guy words, Jon jumped to his sword. She mentally curses herself for not being as fast as him to react.

- No mate, if you try anything you will be the one to die. – Jon response was automatic.

She was already on her feet, searching for something sharp to stand by Jon's side when she felt a cold blade being placed on her throat.

- You move miss, and you die. – The voice came from behind her.

The man that first spoke looked at Jon. – I told you she would die.

She could feel the engines in Jon's head working to find a solution for their dilemma. It would be hilarious if it wasn't so freaking absurd. Jon standing against what, she paused to count the men coming out of the wood that surround them, ok against at least 7 men, pantless while she was here being the little damsel in distress.

Fucking ridiculous, she just had the best moment of her life and now this? If this was some sort of joke from the gods, she was surely not amused.

- Drop your sword, boy. – The man, probably the leader of this band of morons said. She could see Jon's shoulders moving, clearly considering a surprise attack. – And don't try anything silly, or it will be your sweetheart's head. You don't want to die just after you started to enjoy yourself do you, boy? – The man finished indicating a stain on the towel they were seated on. She could feel her face flush with anger. Not the fucking time to tease her.

Jon dropped the sword angrily. At least she wasn't the only one that was mad. Two men came rushing to hold him as the others started to move among their things. The one the leader of imbeciles took one of her daggers from the towel.

- You two have such nice blades. What kind of green boy and former maiden walk with these kinds of things? It is our lucky day, fellows. I think that at least one of them is noble.

One of the other men called him to say they have found silver. - See men, one full bag of silver. It's definitely our lucky day. – Then addressing to Jon again – So what is your name boy?

She saw Jon shudder. – Say it boy. – The man said placing the dagger in Jon's throat. She heard Jon humph and she couldn't help herself, she smirked a huffed noise coming out of her. She saw the man eyeing her – I don't think your wench cares about you. – the man say pressing the dagger against one of Jon's cheek. Once he saw he wouldn't get any reaction from Jon. He walked in her direction. The other men turning Jon, probably for him to see whatever the man was going to do. As they turned him Jon almost stubble on his drop down pants causing the men to laugh at him. That made her furious. They would most certainly pay for that. No one, no one would make fun of Jon and be alive to tell the story. The man looked at Jon – Oh for crying out loud, put your pants up, I'm tired to see your little thing wangling like that.

The men that were holding Jon released him just enough so he could pull his pants up. One of them kicked him back to the floor once his pants were laced. She saw his face full of dirt looking up, meeting her eyes, and saying echoing her thoughts. These men will pay.

- So wench, what is your name? – The man said to her, and she smirked at him. The curse implied by the look she gives him. – Won't say huh? What is his name? – he asks and again she just stares at him. – Funny couple you two. – He comments eying Jon. – Tell me, wench. What are your names? – He asks again and when neither of them answers he slaps her. Seven hells! She curses when she feels the sting from his hand on her cheek. Vaguely she can hear Jon struggling to free himself. – Hold him – the guy commands the others and as she hears a thump she knows they hit Jon again. The man places his hand around her neck. – Say it. – She stares him silently, go fuck yourself imbecile she thinks as she gives him a defiant stare in return. She is not Sansa to be scared of man like that.

- Hey Bone, come and see this. – One of the men that were by the horses called him.

- Can't you see I'm kind of occupied? - he said going to meet the guy who called, anyway.

They looked at something on their saddle. Bone looked at it and clearly smiled, pleased with what he saw. She knew what they found and her eyes met with Jon's, unsurprisingly Jon was silently telling her to be quiet. She wanted to roll her eyes at him, why should she bother? She knew that one way or another, these fellows were screwed. The Bone guy was coming back to them.

- So my Lord Stark – he said, and Jon didn't bother to correct him she notice – Haven't your father teaches you that you shouldn't fuck your wenches in the middle of the woods? We will only charge a small amount for your head.

All the men laughed. Imbeciles indeed. The guy said something about getting hid of her. The guy that held the knife on her throat suggested they could fuck her in front of Jon first. That made them laughs again.

- You will regret this – Jon said and his voice was low with a sarcastic tone that Arya rarely heard in him, she shivered. Not the time to find her man sexy but what can a girl do? - I'm a Stark from Winterfell and I assure you that you will regret harming me or my lady friend.

- Oh the boy has a tongue. – Bone said – Green boys shouldn't meddle with men you know?

Bone approached her again. – She is a bit too young for my taste, but I'm sure that my men can find a use for her – he said and the men laugh agreeing.

She was hardly paying attention to them, as Bone spoke she tried to find ways to get rid of the guy behind her. If she was freed of his hold, it would be much easier for them to escape.

- You should have more manners, wench. – Bone said, she looked at Jon and saw that the same thought has crossed his mind. They needed a distraction, something to unsettle the men as they escape. They didn't have any arches, and apparently the bunch only carried light armor. If they could reach the horses it would be an easy escape. Obviously that it would be even easier if they could reach for their weapons. Suddenly Bone took her face in his hands – You should pay attention wench.

He opened her already half-opened shirt, squeezing her (very sensible) breast. She didn't panic, even though the touch of Bone's callous hand disgusted her. She also noticed that the men with the knife have moved away from her throat, probably leaving space for Bone to "take the charge or something". She caught Jon's eyes again, his expression like ice. She averted her eyes quickly in the way they trained before. "Use the fact that you're a girl, Arya" she remembered him telling her, "most men will not expect for you to react, they won't fear you. That's when you know you can catch them by surprise". So that was why she spitted right into Bone's face.

Bone just stared at her for a moment, obviously surprised by her. The men went silent. – Oh you little wench… - he started to say raising his hand. That was when one of the men screamed.

Ghost jumped in the middle of them ripping one of the men arm, causing him to scream. As the men turned to see what happened, she kicked Bone right in the middle of his legs. Take this asshole.

She looked at Jon, and he was already with his sword in hand. She went down to catch the dagger and was surprise to find the men that was previously staying behind her threatening her with his short sword. – I wouldn't do that if I were you – she said to him as the sound of blade hitting each other filled the air around them. The guy moved in her direction, and Nymeria jumped out of the woods knocking him out (and probably killing him in the process).

She went into Jon's direction as she saw him knocking one of the man. She saw another of them going to attack Jon's back so she run and pierced his kidney with her dagger. "Stick them with the pointy end", Jon's first class. The man fall at her feet screaming, but Ghost was by her side already, one paw ready to slice the man throat. "Death is a messy thing Arya" she remembered her father saying "It demands a detachment from you. You have to remember that it's you or your attacker. Women can't normally do that, that's why they don't normally take part in it". She was surprise to find that she didn't felt panic at all, it was she and Jon or they, and they know their secret, her mind whispered. No one could know their secret.

She was surprised when she felt a blade against her back. She made a sound and Jon turned in their directions. – Don't try anything funny or she will die – the guy said in a very high pitched tone.

- You who knows, mate. You are one against me, and two hungry direwolfs. I wouldn't take chances. – Jon answered.

The guy was probably considering his options when she heard a wheezing sound and a thump soon after. She looked in the man's direction and found him lying in the ground with an arrow on his head.

- Are you two alright? – She heard a voice that was clearly Theon call to them. She eyed Jon, in an understanding way. She hoped all the men were dead.

Theon approached closely followed by Robb. – You shouldn't have done that – Robb said hitting the back of Theon's head. – You could have hit her.

- But I didn't hit her – Theon answered and Robb automatically responded that he could. After a brief discussion Theon asked Jon – Aren't you glad I saved her, Snow? – The question clearly disturbing Jon thoughts.

- You could have missed Theon. He was going to let her go. – Jon said after a while.

- See? – Robb agreed, and then finally turning to her – Are you two alright? By the gods Arya, what have they done to you? – he continued eying her opened shirt and already taking his cape out. That hit a trigger on her head. She turned quickly to close up her shirt pretending to be shy (like a proper lady, look at that) and quickly eyed the towel that she and Jon previously were. Knowing it would be very suspicious if there was only one blood stain on it.

She was glad to see that Nymeria was wondering above the towel with a very bloody corpse on her mouth. The sight really was disgusting but she couldn't denied that it serve her purposes. She looked back at the boys, eying Jon, he obviously have thought the same as her.

She saw Grey Wind walking among the men. Robb was telling Jon about a group of thieves they found near Winterfell. He said they were complaining about another group that had gone south-west, the same direction that she and Jon have taken. He said that he immediately thought they could be in danger and come to help them if needed.

Jon soon followed saying that they came out of nowhere, very quietly taking both of them by surprise. He was just telling them, that the bunch had thought he was the Stark and that they threatened to rape her when they all heard it. One of the guys moaned loudly.

They all looked in the sound direction. Bone was moaning, clearly bleeding but unfortunately alive. Before she and Jon could do anything, Robb was in front of him. – He was their leader, wasn't it? – He asked. After a moment, Jon answered, that yes, it would appear that he was.

Robb shook him, and when he opened his eyes. Robb asked him where he was from, receiving no answer he told Theon to take a hope and tight Bone up. Bone's head dropped again, probably passing out.

- Wait – she said when she realize that Robb was taking him prisoner – Are you taking him back to Winterfell? – she asked even though she already knew the answer.

- Judging from his clothes he is another wildling. There are too many of them coming to our land. We need to find out why.

- But Robb – she tried to argue fast, if by any chance Bone spoke of what she and Jon were doing things would get complicated.

- Robb, he tried to rape Arya. – Jon said, matter of factly – We can't just take him back. He is not like Osha, he didn't surrender.

She could see that Robb was considering the matter. She knew it was hard, Robb was a very dutiful person and he normally would do whatever he thought it was good for the kingdom.

- He will pay Arya. I promise you, he will. But we need to find out, why so many wildlings are heading south.

She thought about arguing but she knew Robb better. It wasn't going to work. She stole a glance in Jon's direction and she found the same concern in his eyes. One can't leave witness behind if you want to keep a secret.

The problem was how to get rid of the man? She wondered if she could play a very annoying victim but that could also raise suspicion. She cursed herself as she couldn't find any immediate solution. She would have to wait until something pops into her head. She would also have to talk with Jon.

Gods only knew how he would take that. He is probably regretting what they just did. Her chest felt constricted, she didn't want any regrets associated with today. She wanted that, he had wanted that why did they had to care about the others.

Please, she asked the gods, don't let him regret it. Let him accept that I will always be his and he will always be mine and that no one can interfere with that. Let him be loved by me and I promise I will love him forever, she almost prayed or maybe she did pray.

She tried to walk to take her horse. Now that the adrenaline faded out she could feel the lingering ache between her legs. The ghost sensation of Jon's inside her. It was odd but strangely she had felt complete. Now it was almost as if something was missing. She felt something change inside of her when she moved like a drop drifting in a window. It took her a moment to find out that it was probably Jon's seed coming out of her.

Neither the thought nor the sensation pleased her. She didn't want to lose this newly discovered piece of him. She felt him filling her when he came undone it felt amazing, hot liquid pouring inside of her. She contained a shiver she wanted to keep that sensation. Also the sensation felt odd.

She didn't want to lose them. She asked the gods again to let him see. She was meant to stay with Jon. To be filled and completed by him. He had to know that. He has to stop doubting himself.

The ghost sensation of him was really odd and she felt sticky. Hell, she already wanted to try making love again. She realized as she kept trying to reach her horse. She chuckled, is that why people say those words in weddings? Become one, two bodies and one soul and all that? It oddly made sense now.

Her horse sell didn't felt comfortable but she waited for them anyway. She could handle a bit of discomfort. What she couldn't handle was that odd sensation it kept making her shiver and move on her saddle.

Also her limps felt heavy, she wanted to calm down curls around Jon's body and sleep maybe for a decade or something. Even her lids were heavy to lift. She fight a yawn remembering that she should adjust her neckline so none of the love bites Jon gave her showed.

She made an effort to do it. But really couldn't Robb just once chose the easy way and leave the wildling behind. Dead maybe? No?

She searched Jon and saw that his neckline was showing. Who was being careless now? She wanted to ask him. So she discretely bumped her horse into him, waiting for him too look up so she could indicate his neck. His eyes went huge when he absorbed what she indicate, she wanted to caress his head, sometimes he was so cute.

They all wanted to go back to Winterfell by then. But the problem was that no one wanted to carry Bone back. Theon stated that the man was able to walk but probably would need some kind of "encouragement". So that's why they threw water on him to wake him up.

The problem started just as soon as Bone woke up. Robb being the proper Stark in Winterfell, went straight in front of the man presenting himself and… - you will be held for attacking Lady Arya Stark my sister and my dear brother Jon Snow, and you better cooperate.

The response was automatic and she could just see a light of understanding popping into Bone's head when he stared at them again. Well, thank you bloody much Robb.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

You just had to do it. That was what Jon conscience kept screaming as he bumped his head against the wall repeatedly. WHY, in the name of the gods he had to do it? Why he had to act like a damned imbecile when Arya was concern? He was not a young lad anymore. For everything that was worth he was a man.

So why was he so damned stupid? Knowledge and responsibility did come with age did it not? He always said to himself that he couldn't… couldn't… you know… do _that!_ But he had to ignore all good sense in the world and fuck it. Literally.

Really? When did his brain thought this was going to be a good decision anyway? Worst decision ever, Jon Snow. And don't even try to argue with that! He screamed to that awful idiotic part of him that had enjoyed himself immensely.

Now the surely prospect of losing his head didn't seem nearly as awful as the knowledge that he ruined Arya. How is she supposed to marry some decent man now? It would be a disgrace! _Not that you wanted her to be married anyway… _his mind whispered. Oh just shut the fuck up! He screamed back, letting out a painful moan as he hit his head again.

If all that wasn't bad enough, they just HAD to be caught by some fucking wildling. Okay, gods I get it, you can stop playing with my life now. It's not funny anymore. It's just a question of time before Robb find out, and then Father and then (oh lords) Lady Catelyn. Who cared about being beheaded? Being beheaded would be a blessing. He much preferred beheading over, who knows, torture, castration, life prison? That in the unlikely possibility, that he lived long enough to be condemned.

On the other hand that was Arya. She wouldn't die, thank the gods. The blame of taking someone "by force" was always (and he thanked the gods for that) set upon the man. But even if the official version was that she was raped, there would still be malicious tongues saying other things. She was stained for life, and was entirely his fault.

And he is not even considering her mother. Gods. When her mother finds out, no one would live to see the end of it. You think it's bad to be a bastard? Try to be a bastard in Lady Catelyn house. He wouldn't be surprised if she didn't prey for his death every day or something of sorts.

So let us count your skills in goods, well thought, decision making. Skills that you could pointedly say for sure that are completely inexistent. You WILL probably die as a rapist, beheaded if you are lucky. You just stained Arya as unmarriageable and fount of shame for the Stark house for eternity. And… and THAT.

It's not that bad. A tiny, and in the moment very shy voice spoke in his head. It wasn't that bad? He scoffed. When did he forget the main thing about having sex with someone? Remember, he whispered to himself sarcastically, bumping his head in every word. She could get with child. Hells, she could be with child now. This very moment, he could be a father to be. And his son would be what? WHAT? He asked himself. _A bastard. A fucking, hated, ostracize, bastard like you._

So he has to consider that too, right? If Arya is… if she is… then it would be even worse. She just couldn't in anyway have this child. It would be better if he could slip some moon tea for her now. But how do that with so many questions filling his mind. Where could he find moon tea? Where did people get moon tea anyway? Could he get it without asking to meister Luwin? Because asking meister Luwin was not an available option. When could he get it? He has to get it now. Right now, before the wildling decides to open his mouth.

Then, had the other questions like if he got some moon tea. How much is enough? Is it dangerous? What would he do if anything got wrong? Would she be able to have other children?

Most importantly. How he would give to Arya? How would he convince Arya to take it? Gods. How he would convince himself to make her take it.

He groaned. You have no choice whatsoever, he argued. You can't think about how this child would look like. No. Not thinking on how this child will probably be a miniature of both of them, have their dark eyes and white skin. No need to wander if this child could be a boy or a girl. No. Enough with the bad decisions, Jon Snow. No child should born a bastard, he knew exactly how bad it was. He had to find some tea and slip it to her without anyone finding out… but again. How?

He heard a knock on his door and almost fell down on his knees. Time was up, and he hadn't even found a way to remember Arya of this things. Please, gods, don't let her be with child. I'll take the blame, please, let them believe I forced her and PLEASE let her agree with it.

Forcing himself to stand he tried to move away from the wall. Face your own death with dignity at least he coursed to himself as the door opened behind him.

- Did you finally lost your wits, Snow? – Theon said and he just stared at him blankly. What in the seven hells? Theon laugh that sarcastic really annoying laugh of his. – Only lunatics bump their heads on the wall, Snow.

He fought the will of punching Theon face or rolling his eyes. – Shut up, Greyjoy. – even prisoners had the right to talk back didn't they?

- Why you are always in such a bad mood, Snow? – Theon said and not leaving space for Jon to wonder around his words completed – Robb wants to talk to you.

Possibilities flew inside his mind. Maybe Theon didn't know it yet? Wouldn't he at least joke about it? Maybe just Robb knew. A feeble hope crossed his heart, maybe if Robb haven't believed in Bone he could lie. But even if he could lie, how he would convince everyone not to check? What would happen when Arya did married?

Or maybe, Robb knew and was just being sly. Maybe he was so enraged he would wait him already with his sword in hand. Well, if Robb was expecting a trial for battle he would be disappointed. He will not deny his blame.

The halls of Winterfell must have flown by him, when he took notice he was already in front of Robb's chamber. He knew ever since this madness started at the hot springs months ago that Arya would be his doom. It was time to face it.

The door open as Jon prepared himself to face his brother. He had no excuse still he didn't want to see the face of his brother. The disappointment that would certainly be there, he could handle furious Robb. But disappointed Robb was a whole new issue.

- Hey Jon, are you okay? You look pale. – Robb said and Jon just stood by the door dumbstruck. What in the seven hells was that? Robb should be furious, not looking like he always did. The moment stretched and Robb called him again. Trying to shake the shock out he forced himself to sit in front of his brother.

- I'm not feeling very well today. – Jon said. After all if Robb was going to pretend that nothing happen he could do it as well. Two could play this game and he was not lying. It was true he was not feeling well for sure. He didn't need to say that the disease he had was eating his soul and not his body.

- Should I call maister Luwin for you? You didn't catch a cold or something did you? – Robb said and gods, he sounded like normal worried big brother (even thought they were practically the same age) Robb.

- No Robb, I'm not feeling well, but is nothing to worry yourself about. – He managed to say, still wondering if this could all be some kind of sick jokes. He rationally knew that Robb was not like that, but what if? He had to consider didn't he? Even if it meant doubting his brother.

- Have a drink, Jon. You look like you could use some wine. – Robb said already purring him a cup.

Jon took his cup and gulped half of it. Calm yourself down, Robb is not a chest to keep secrets, he always spill them out. But on the other hand, a conversation that needs wine would probably not be an easy one to endure.

- Today was quiet a long day wasn't it? – Robb started and Jon's suspicions immediately raised up.

- Too long for my taste. – He said drinking another gulp of wine.

- You know Jon, you don't need to beat yourself up for something that end up okay. – Robb said.

- What? – What in the seven hells are you talking about Robb, the full sentence was not said out loud thank the gods.

- Your forehead, Jon. Is red. You should stop punishing yourself over nothing. Is a bad habit. – Robb said sounding again like an older brother. Why did his brother have to be such a righteous man. He totally got that from father he thought, half wondering why he hadn't inherited his father sense of rightfulness.

- Is nothing Robb, really.

- Is just that you could not have been able to protect Arya? Or something like that? – Right where it hurts Robb, Jon thought. That skill you definitely inherit from your mother.

- Shut up Robb! – He said, his brother presence making him act like they were still younglings sharing the same room.

Robb laugh. – It means I'm right you know.

- Give me a break, Robb. I was attacked today you know? – Jon awnsered pouring himself more wine.

- We were lucky to find you. Grey Wind did most of the work, I think he snifled Ghost or Nymeria, or the blood. You guys were turning the situation weren't you?

- Having two direwolves do help to turn a battle in your favor.

- Theon managed to take one wildling, so our presence did help. – Robb said sarcastically a big smile on his face. – What were you two doing so far away, anyway?

Jon paused for a moment thinking on his answer. He knew they had wondered too far. Their propose had been to avoid Winterfell guards or any passing villager. To avoid their family, they couldn't take any more chances of getting caught by Bran or Rickon. They also had to stay away from the main roads to avoid travelers. He obviously couldn't tell that to Robb.

- I think we just wondered off. We went into a quest for the perfect picnic spot. – He said making sure to semi-roll his eyes in a manner that said he was kind of dragged to it. Wondering if his brother would believe such a weak motive.

- Arya idea I gather? – Robb asked and Jon could have let out a sigh of pure relief.

- Kind of, I did promise her a perfect picnic when the weather was nice. – Half lies, Jon you learn that in tactics use it for good this time.

- Why did you promise that? – Robb asked with a face that clearly stated how much he didn't get and that implied he wanted to be invited to these brotherly gatherings.

He shudders – She was a bit under the weather since father left. I guess she misses them.

- Is she still mad with me? – Robb asked sounding a bit hurt.

- It could be worse Robb. In truth it was worse. It's getting better you know. You just have to give her time.

- It has being months, Jon. I miss my sister, and my brother on that matter. You are always doing something together.

Jon eyed his brother. Not detecting a single touch of malice in his voice. – Give her time, Robb. It was difficult.

Robb seated and poured them more wine. His face showing that he would dramatically change the subject. A very old and very Robb's tactic. That's why Jon kind of braced himself. If doom was to come it would probably be coming now.

Breathing he tried to be ready for whatever Robb decided to talk about. He looked at his cup, wondering once again when was the last time he just drank wine without passing half of the time figuring his worries out.

He hadn't forgotten the promise he had made to himself earlier. Even if he did promised when he was in an out of reality kind of state. If his brother asked him, he would say sorry for everything but never for loving Arya. He couldn't be sorry for loving her. Much for the contrary that must be the only thing he was actually proud of.

He was becoming a person of contradictions. A thought briefly chuckled his way to the edge of his mind. The Targaryens were known for being contradicted persons people said it was a sign of madness. He wondered if mad by love could count as madness in a trial.

Nothing could have prepared him to his brother next words thought. It took him by surprise, cutting through the half preparations he had set up.

- So Jon, I wanted to ask you something. That guy that attacked you and Arya today, I think his name is Bone Breaker or anything like that. Well, he refuses to talk to me or Theon and says he will only talk to you. So can you go down in the dungeons and try to make him tell us something?

Robb's voice faded out. His brain was working fast, Robb didn't knew. Not yet at least. The wildling must be after some kind of bargain. He tried to think but Robb was still talking and he knew that he had to at least pretend that he was hearing him.

Why are you asking me that, Robb? He asked himself searching for a sign that proved that Robb did know all along. Or that he don't have the slightest idea. Beggar can't be choosers, and he would surely receive any of the answers gladly. Anything was better than not knowing for sure.

No, He told himself. Robb does not know. Calm yourself down, he commanded to himself. Just keep on answering like it was just another everyday conversation.

- You just want me to question him of why are the wildlings running South? – Jon asked flatly.

-Well, yeah. Does that mean the clans are setting up for a war or something? Are they trying to attack the Wall? We have to find these things out. – Robb said resolute.

Jon nodded. He did know that too many wildlings were coming South. That much was true, and Winterfell as the North capital had to protect the rest of the realm.

Robb sighed. - We keep warning the Night's Watch but they keep saying they are doing the best they can. And really they could use some men.

- Yeah. – Jon said thinking he should really have gone to the Nigth's Watch himself. Be a ranger, be one of the realm defenders and never ever get so close to fatherhood. He gulped the rest of his cup. Searching for the bottle to refilled.

- I'm not saying that you should join them Jon. You do have the right to choose. – Robb said it then and Jon felt guiltier of his sins. He wanted to apologize and ask for Robb forgiveness. His brother looked so positively worried with his happiness.

- I know, Robb. But the fact that I can't decide keeps dragging me out. – the tiny fact that he couldn't possible leave Arya alone was another matter entirely. He couldn't just run to the Night's Watch taking the risk of leaving her with child. He sighed, life had a funny way to become increasingly difficult.

– Father said they were gathering people to send to the Wall back in King's Landing. So you don't need to fight just because they are short of men.

- You forget that there is a costume to be observed – Jon point out. Referring to all the Starks that volunteered themselves to the Wall. His uncle Benjen was just the last one on a long line.

- You have other ways to represent our family, Jon. - Robb stopped considering his words for a moment. – I hope you consider what I told you before.

Jon couldn't answer so he just nod, knowing that Robb was suggesting that he knew why Jon couldn't join the Night's Watch. Robb was thinking about the lines "take no wife" and even if his brother line of thought was close from the problem, it was still far from the whole true.

He wanted to kick himself. What kind of troubles he kept putting himself in? – Think about it – Robb said. – Really, Jon. You are way to fatalist sometimes there are other possibilities if you chose to accept them.

They paused, neither of them saying nothing. Both drinking their cups of wine and sending glances to the fireplace. He wanted to ask his brother about Dacey. Are they talking with each other now that she came back to Bear Island?

He knew that Robb probably wanted to let some of his own worries out. But truly, he wasn't drunk enough wine to risk talking about Arya yet. Maybe both of them did inherit their father lack of ability to talk about emotions. He briefly wondered if his child would inherit Arya ability to express it. Then rapidly crossing that thought he navigated to another of the "not to be thought about" areas of his brain.

That remembered him about another thing. He shouldn't even be thinking about that. He had so many more things to worry about now. The thing is he remembered what his father had said to him before leaving. He had told him that when he came back he would tell Jon about his mother.

He thought about the time of his life he passed hours wondering about this mysterious woman. Who was she? And most important why did she left him? Once he heard that all bastards carry some kind of stain and that was why they were not to be trusted. He always wondered if it was something like that that made his mother leave him when he was just a baby.

Arya crossed his mind and he had to admit that she was even more admirable for loving him, a bastard. The world of his thoughts making finally a complete turn from east to west, just to come back for the root of his concerns. He drank the last bit of his cup.

Robb purred him more wine. Breaking their stretched silence. – But most importantly I have some news. From King's Landing.

Accepting the easy change of subjects and the end of their silence Jon asked each news he was talking about. Ever since Father, Lady Cathelyn and Sansa arrived in King's Landing all the news contained mostly the same thing.

His father would say that everything in the Council was fine. Even though he thought it was hard to work with snakes such as Littlefinger or Varys. He would say that the King was well, still organizing (or making his father organize) feasts and tournaments in honor of Sansa and Joffrey engagement, and finally he would plainly complain of the capital's weather saying it was too hot sometimes and that he missed the fresh winds in Winterfell. Lady Cathelyn would say King's Landing is amazing as every Capital have to be but way to disorganized, and that she was really occupied trying to arrange the wedding with Queen Cersei. The Queen apparently was being difficult and not so willing to see the prince marrying. She would always end saying that she missed her children very much, insist that Arya should meet her there and that she were going to send gifts when she could (not for him he guessed).

- It was mostly mum's news and I don't really know how to break it to you so… – Robb started. – It seems they found Arya a husband. She is to be bethroed to Edric Dayne.

Jon literally spilled his wine then. – She found what? - WHAT? What do you people mean with finding a bethroed for Arya? No they can't do this now. Not now.

- Yeah. The lad's name is Edric Dayne he is Ser Baric Dondarrion squire and future Lord of Starfall. It's a good match. – Robb said

He couldn't answer. He was really getting sick, nausea making its way through his gut. Now of all times, they had to find a bethroed for Arya. Now, that they both had so many problems to worry about.

Now that they still have so many things to figure out. Nausea was mixing with anger and jealousy. He instantly wanted to challenge this Edric Dayne lad and show him that Arya's hand was not for him. Not for no-one really, his mind whispered and this time he fully agreed.

- Oh Jon. I know that you think that mother is rushing into things… me and father, we think the same. But mother is resolute she really thinks that marring Arya is the best for her. – Robb continued probably sensing that he did not like that conversation.

- Shouldn't she at least wait for Sansa to be married first? – He tried saying. Hoping his voice sounded reasonably. Couldn't you wait until later? He mutedly asked Lady Catelyn, do you have to be so caught up in marriage fever that you have to marry both your daughters off? Now of all times.

- She will wait, but she wants Arya in King's Landing to meet her bethroed. She thinks Arya will like him.

Jon must have gulped. That was bad, really bad. His mind was positive screaming to him sense was once again losing his grip. That couldn't be possible happening they just couldn't let Arya travel now. What if she were with child what then? What if he don't convince her in time and she only find out in King's Landing? What will happen then?

Also he have the bloody wildling to consider. Could he manage? Could he get rid of the wildling? Could he find a way to convince Arya in time? Could he let her go at all? Could he live knowing that she would be married with some other man? Could he live knowing exactly what this man would feel every time he takes her? Could he bare it?

Oh great, he thought. Even more question. Just what I need right now. Where could he find the strength to face these new questions? When all then seems like dead ends?

- The thing is Jon. I can't give this news to Arya. You know since that… I think she would stop talking to me altogether.- Robb never really stopped talking and Jon was glad that he could grasp some part of it at all.

- You want me to speak with her, don't you? – Jon said half fearing the answer he knew he would receive. Then trying to sound more like himself – She will stop talking to me too.

How could he possibly do that? One of the seven hells must be named after his life. There was the only explanation as to why these sorts of things keep escalating.

- You have to admit Jon. You are the one with the best chances here.

Off course he couldn't expect his brother to know that this was killing him. Finding no way to explain to Robb why he couldn't do this at all. He was obligated to agree with him, and take the responsibility of telling Arya that not only she had to kill the chances of being with his child (his mind silently gulping with the thought) but also that she was going to be sent to the thing she dreaded the most. Anytime now, he said to the gods, you all can stop playing with my life.

He wondered if this was some sort of punishment for his sins. If it where he wandered if he could ask the gods to send them with same time between each other.

- How is this lad? – He managed to say. Dark curiosity and jealous were eating him alive. He had to know how this guy is. Who is the man that will steal Arya from him. Why is he better? Why is he worthy of her and why in the seven hells couldn't he be in his place?

- He is a normal lad from what I gathered. He is about our age. Blond hair and dark blue eyes according to mum.

- So he is just a squire? – He asked trying to contain the poison that wanted to drift out of his tongue.

- For now, yeah. But he will be heir of Starfall. People say it's beautiful over there.

He would have chuckled. Edric Dayne was his physical opposite apparently blond hair and dark blue eyes, and from a family known to have beautiful people in it. He darkly wondered if their child would be blond also. The thought made him sick.

Robb still stretched the conversation. Changing subjects back to the events of the afternoon his brother was a curious person and he wanted Jon's version of what happened. How did they get you both by surprise? Jon couldn't say the conversation helped him. He felt these before when he first thought about Arya wanting to kiss some boy. More than jealousy and anger there was sadness and he was not sure if he would ever be able to surpass it.

So he kept talking and talking to pretend that nothing of these things affected him. At least you're becoming an excellent liar, he thought to himself thanking the lords that Robb would always believe in the best of him. Double thanking that his brother didn't asked him about his open shirt.

Later they were joined by Theon, to have a small diner. Again he couldn't excuse himself and as he feared he were compelled to tell both of them much more than he was willing and with the plus of not letting any of his worries spill out. What were really hard given the last news he just found out.

But somehow he kept the pretense up. Fooling his brother and even fooling Theon. He guesses he should look on the bright side Theon was a fucking encyclopedia of the habits of whoring, including moon tea incredibly.

So at least now he knew that all he needed was to find a whore, without anyone (specially Arya) finding out and convince her to give him moon tea. Theon laugh in his face when he asked if drinking it was not too dangerous, but it was worthy. He was not sure if he could go on with anything that threatened Arya's life.

Neither way it was half way to solve one of the most important problems he current had. He could at least try to find answers to the problems that demanded some sort of practical solution. The problems that demanded another type of solutions he still didn't know how to handle.

He was settling to leave when Robb, asked him to wait a bit longer. He saw Robb getting up a bit wobbly he must add and reach to one of the trunks in the back of his room. – So Jon – Robb started with his head down in the trunk – I was thinking about the things I have said to you.

Jon was confused and he tried to stay full alert again. Robb came back to the table with a big box and Jon could only stare at it. What was that? He wondered, that box kind of looked like it could contain a dress or something.

- Jon, forgive but I told your secret to Theon too. You see, I needed a second opinion and Theon does agree with me. – Robb saying did the trick of fully re-awake him from any state of drunkenness he felt suddenly very sober.

- What are you talking about? – he managed to ask eying both Robb and Theon.

- He is talking about your secret lady friend, Snow – Theon said and that surely ringed some warning bells – Really Snow, I wouldn't imagine that you have had it in you.

- Come on Theon – Robb warned.

- I'm just saying and you have to agree with me that Snow here never showed any type of interest in a woman before. Seriously, if you are asking about moon tea it's obvious that you fucked that girl, Snow. But if she had gone by the time the king went home she should have drunk it already.

- Well thank you Greyjoy, I'm glad I could surprise you at least. – Jon said sarcastically.

- Can't both of you stop bickering each other? – Robb said sounding much like his lady mother - Theon not the time for that.

- Come on Robb, Snow fucked some girl. It's a miracle or something. – Theon protested – And he is all so secretive of it.

- That's because it's none of your business – Jon said almost bitterly.

- You are being unreasonably shy about it, Snow. Robb told me everything about the bear girl and I must say I'm curious as to who agreed to go with you to anywhere. – Theon continued ignoring his and Robb's complained – I didn't see any blind lady in the royal committee, but you did practically ignore every girl there! At least in front of us.

- Theon, you are sounding like one of that gossiping ladies. – Robb said.

- Oh fuck it Robb. I tried to fuck a fair amount of that noble ladies and I couldn't manage more than one. I just want to know what he did. Come on, indulge me Snow. How you got under a noble girl dress?

- I have way more charms with the ladies then you Greyjoy, got it? – Jon said entering deciding that if he didn't answer anything it would be far more suspicious.

- I highly doubt it. Come on. Did act like that charming boys that read poems and shit? – Theon asked.

- Neither Theon. – Jon said trying desperate to find a solution for this questioning – We talked and discovered we have a lot in common. That was it. – That was not it. It was much more than just things in common. But he was not going anywhere near what really happened between him and Arya. He could admit now that his uneasy with Arya meant much more than he had previously thought.

- What did you have in common with her? Acting like a girl? – Theon said

Jon rolled his eyes and Robb must have thought it was best to interfere - Theon, really do you want to go and talk with the cleaning ladies or something? – Robb started – I asked you to be discrete.

- Well, I'm sorry for being curious, Robb. But I can't just accept these things like you do.

- And please don't refer to Dacey like that. – Robb said

- Like what? Bear lady? Is not an insult, Robb, is just how she is.

- Theon believe me she has nothing to do with bears. – Robb complained.

- Except the temper? – Theon answer.

Robb let out a groaned. – Like I was trying to say… - he started glaring daggers at Theon – The thing I was trying to say… - He turned towards Jon – Jon me and Theon think that maybe you should consider what I told you and just marry this girl.

- Robb… - Jon tried to say something but got interrupted by his brother again.

- No, Jon. Let me finish. – Robb said – Ever since you told me about this woman, I can see you are not willing to go to the Wall and I know you won't marry a girl that you are not fully engaged with. The problem is that you have a choice Jon. Me and Theon – He warningly looked at Theon for reinforcement – agree that you should think about the possibility of marrying this girl. Even against her father wishes.

- You are being unreasonable – Jon argued – I told you she is noble, she can't marry a bastard.

- Then runway – Robb answered matter of factly – Jon, if you think this girl can be with child, your child and I know you didn't mean for it to happened but can you truly say you are able to let her drink moon tea and end it?

Shocked by Robb's words Jon found it was really hard to give that answer. He has wander around that very question the role day. Could he really do it? All he ever wanted was a family, a family that was truly his without anyone being left out. But on the other hand he knew that that was unreasonable.

- It's not like I know it for sure – he said vaguely

- Isn't the suspicion enough? – Robb asked

- Come on Jon, we know how you feel about being a bastard and all. And I know that you like to pretend that you don't but Robb is right. – Theon said surprising Jon.

- That's why I'm giving you this. – Robb said indicating the box and clearly waiting for him to opened it.

Jon opened the lid and took a moment to understand all the implications of what he saw. Robb was giving him a cape. But not any cape, this cloak was clearly meant to be a wedding cloak. He had to admit it was quite beautiful, he took it in his hands feeling the softness of it. It was all white with white embroidery shining and making pardons on the edges, mimicking flakes of snow. The inner side was all grey. Before he could ask why Robb was talking again.

- I knew you wouldn't accept the Stark sigil on it. So I ask them to make it all white on the outside to match your namesake and the inner side grey for you to remember you are also a Stark.

- I can't take this. – He tried to say. He loved Robb, but he wanted to tell him, why he just couldn't take this. It would be of no use. No one would ever wear it.

- Don't be a bother Snow. – Theon said.

- I won't take no for an answer, brother. – Robb said. – It is yours now, think about what we said and use it at your will.

Avoiding making an embarrassment of himself, he managed to choke some appreciation over his gift. He knew Robb had it done for a noble lady, he didn't want to tell him that no matter what no one could ever wear it. Only Arya could ever be worthy of that, but that was a whole new issue of things that can't be done.

It was late when he went out of Robb's quarters and even though he knew he had to see Arya immediately he also knew that you can't make people with sensitive information wait for too long. There was always the chance that the wildling decides to open his mouth and then… well then there would all be finished one way or another.

That was the main reason as to why after exiting Robb's room, Jon went straight to the dungeons to find the man the most likely would blackmail him. Also he needed the time to figure out what he could tell Arya. How would he approach all the problems they were having? He should sort them all out and then find some sort of plan. Yeah, organization made sense. So he would go first talk with Bone and figure out what can be done to avoid damages there.

In disregard for his plan walk thought the halls into the dungeons was still painfully hard. He was tired and still felt nauseous, but his problems wouldn't wait for him to feel better so he couldn't leave it waiting.

He passed through the guards nodding to them and saying he would need some time alone with the prisoner. Nobody questioned him and he was immensely glad for the little things. It was much more easier to be blackmailed without risking to be expose trough someone else.

He opened the door to the corridors the strange smell of the dungeons invading his lungs. Robb had said that Bone was in the last cell, the most isolated one. So he took one of the torches and went there.

Bone must have listen him entering because when Jon approached the cell, he was already standing up, his hands passing through the bars. – Oh, if isn't Fake Lord Stark the sister fucker. I knew you would come.

- I told you would be sorry to cross us. – Jon said pointedly glancing the bars of the cell.

- Something tells me I won't be held for long, sister fucker. – Bone said to him, confirming that he would probably be blackmailed.

- Can't we pass the trivialities prisoner? What do you want? – He asked as if he didn't know already what the man would ask.

- You may have figured by now that I kept your little secret.

- As if anyone would believe a wildling. – Jon bluffed. He could try couldn't he?

- No more than they would trust a bastard, I guess. – Bone answered sneering. – So can we get back to proper negotiations or you are willing to take the risk for that pretty little lady? Oh forgive me, she is Lady Stark right? You kneelers are so preoccupied with these things.

- I can't help you escape, wildling. There is no way out of these walls. – Jon said.

- Oh lad, I think you just lack the proper convincement. I'll keep my mouth shut, if you help me out in let's say a week?

Jon knew that he lost then. Proper convincement, Arya engaged, not a maiden anymore and maybe with a child, his child. He asked himself if he could kill Bone right there, but how he would explain that to Robb. How do that without rising up suspicions? How he could be sure that he hadn't said something that would appear later? How could he ever be sure that nobody listened them right now.

Most of all he knew, he couldn't take risks. He couldn't take the risk of leaving Arya with child and he couldn't take the risk of letting this... villain do what he pleased. It was negotiations time indeed. Because that's what you did for your family. You do what's right, and you do it to protect it. – I will need guarantees that you will keep your word, wildling. – Jon said, knowing the risks were too high and he had only one bet left.

**A/N - I won't even try to apologize for the time I made you people wait. I have no excuses other than this chapter took me really long and was dificult to write it all down since I kept changing dialogues all the time. But the wait is over! Was it worth the waiting? Oh and yes the italic paragraph with a * is a quote. Does anybody ever read that book? xD**


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